Tommy
by shedoc
Summary: Life can take an unexpected turn sometimes
1. New York

New York

0o0o0

The bullpen was busy. Rain lashed the windows as the men and women of Major Crimes followed leads and tied up final details. They were a diverse group, in both race and appearance, but anyone who really looked for a moment could see how they moved as a well-oiled team. This department was famous for its diversity and smarts – just about everyone had a college education. Those that didn't had other skills – military background and otherwise. Right now they were working at peak efficiency in the hope that their Captain wouldn't take the increasingly bad mood caused by his visitor out on them.

Simon Banks scowled at the man sitting opposite him. His visitor was a tall man with well-developed muscles and short styled hair. He wore a suit that was well cut, but crumpled from long hours of travel and work. His skin was tanned. He spoke with an educated drawl and got to the point quickly.

Simon didn't like him at all. It wasn't his manner or personality: it was what he was about to tell one of Simon's men. Simon looked out into the bullpen and sighed. He leaned back a little – all the better to fill his lungs – and yelled,

"Ellison and Sandburg, my office!"

He saw Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg exchange glances and get up quickly. Everyone in the bullpen had been keeping a weather eye on his office ever since his visitor had arrived this morning and Simon had locked himself away – a sure sign something was wrong.

As usual Jim was dressed neatly in dark trousers, plain woolen sweater and a dress shirt. Blair was more colorful, his long hair loose, a bright vest over a long-sleeved linen shirt over a long-sleeved T-shirt and ripped jeans. As people went they were opposites in appearance, mannerisms and personality. They were the best team Simon had and daily proved their devotion to each other and the citizens of Cascade.

Jim ushered Blair into Simon's office, and into a seat and then Jim sat too – between the stranger and his partner.

Blair met Simon's eyes with a resigned look – ever since the fountain Jim had been in Blessed Protector Overdrive. They'd caught Blair's killer and he and Jim had reconciled, but Jim still treated Blair like he was precious and liable to break. Blair was working on the problem, but it was slow going. Simon had kept Jim on desk duty since their return from Peru a week ago, sensing something off about the Sentinel and not willing to risk him in the field – this hadn't helped the situation. Simon bit down on a sigh – the news he was about to tell them was going to make things worse, not better, and there was no way to isolate one from the other when Jim was in this mood.

"You wanted to see us Simon?" Blair asked quietly and Simon nodded, resigned. There was going to be no easy way to do this – better to just tell the truth and then pick up the pieces afterwards.

"Blair, this is Mark Dermas. He's a PI from New York," Simon began tiredly, "He's been looking for you. Do you remember a girl called Amelia Milton?"

"Umm," Blair thought hard, and his face lit when he came upon her face, "Oh yeah. We dated for six months. We broke up just before I started working with Jim."

Beside Blair Jim shifted uneasily, worried about where this line of inquiry was headed. Blair put a hand on his arm automatically, not even looking away from Simon. Simon breathed a silent sigh of relief as Blair kept talking, answering his next question before he could ask it.

"We broke up when her parents found out she was living in the warehouse with me. They threw a fit and pulled her out of Rainier. I think she went to one of the private U's in New York. Ammie and I lost touch when she left …her parents weren't real fond of me."

"Hard to believe," Jim spoke for the first time, his voice a little tense. Blair's fingers began to stroke his arm gently, soothing the Sentinel, the action blocked from the stranger by Jim's own body.

"Yeah, right, like I'm irresistible," Blair laughed and Jim frowned. He hated to hear his Guide run himself down.

"Hey, you think you'd be here if we didn't like you?" Simon decided to weigh in to the ongoing battle to increase Blair's sense of self worth: something that had dipped sharply after the fountain, as if Blair felt that dying diminished him. The kid sure could be dense about the way people really felt about him. There wasn't a man or woman in Major Crimes that wouldn't take a bullet for their 'professor' – and they'd all gone to bat for the civilian against their fellow cops at one point or another.

"I know – it's an abiding tolerance," Blair snuck a look at Jim and Jim growled in mock annoyance. He flicked his fingers at his partners leg and settled in his chair. Blair easily dodged the fingers and removed his hand from Jim's arm as the tension in his body eased a little.

"At the start maybe, but not any more. More like genuine friendship, nowadays," Simon made his tone reflective and ignored Dermas impatient little gesture. Sandburg was worth the wait. Blair blushed lightly and ducked his head in thanks. Dermas cleared his throat and ruined the moment.

"You're here because something happened to Ammie, right? Is she ok?" Blair leaned around Jim, replacing his hand. Jim tensed up again, turning a little to face Dermas and be ready to protect his Guide.

"Two weeks ago, Amelia Milton and her boyfriend died in a car crash on their way home from a function," Dermas said it smoothly, not inclined to coddle the hippie by shading the truth, "I was hired by her lawyers to find you."

Dermas would have continued but Blair sat back, letting Jim shield him from view for a moment. Dermas waited for the crocodile tears and protestations of grief – after all Amelia was rich, her parents richer and only an idiot wouldn't clue in to the fact that there was an inheritance.

"I'm sorry to hear that," the voice was sad and quiet, "She was a special person."

Dermas almost fell off his chair – whatever response he'd been expecting this heartfelt dignity wasn't it. He nodded uncertainly and waited until Blair leant forward again.

"Chief, I'm sorry," Jim said gently and Blair smiled at him in reassurance. He rubbed Jim's arm; getting comfort from giving it.

"It's ok. We sort of parted friends, but never kept in touch. I haven't thought of her in a long time. Why did her lawyers want to see me?"

This last question was aimed at Dermas and the intelligence and honesty Dermas saw there suddenly convinced him his next piece of news would be a shock to the man in front of him.

"In her Will Miss Milton has left everything she owns and her bank accounts to you. This includes sole custody of her son, a boy named Thomas Sandburg."

Silence as Blair paled and tried to remember to breathe. Jim tensed in shock and turned to his roommate and partner. At first glance he could tell that Blair had never known his girlfriend had gotten pregnant – his status as a parent was a complete surprise. Jim's hearing kicked in and he monitored his partners heart rate and breathing. Blair's lips were moving but whatever he was saying was too quiet even for Sentinel hearing.

Simon got up and glared at Dermas before hurrying out to grab some water from the break room. Jim got up and moved closer to his friend, standing with a hand on Blair's shoulder. His Guide was leaning forward, his face in his hands as he tried to come to grips with what he'd been told. Simon returned with the water and between them they got the new father to take a few sips.

"I swear … if I'd known I would have followed her to New York. Jim you gotta believe me I didn't abandon them…"

"Easy, Sandburg," Simon broke in before Jim could even start to reply, "We both know you'd have done right by them. She didn't tell you – it's not your fault."

"C'mon Chief," Jim cajoled, "I know how you feel about this kind of thing. I know you'd never abandon your kid."

Dermas watched as the new father bit his lip and strove for calm and clarity. After a few moments he nodded and took the glass from Simon, draining it and placing it on the floor. He urged his partner to sit down and smiled a dismissal to Simon, who decided to lean on his desk nearby rather than put it between him and Blair.

"Ok," Blair's voice had purpose in it and he eyed Dermas with determination, "I need to know where he is, and the name of the lawyers. I'll book a flight to New York and try to get things sorted out there as soon as I can. I assume you have all that information for me?"

"Yes," Dermas nodded and Blair dismissed him, turning to look at Simon instead, "Simon, can I borrow Jim for the rest of the day? We need to get a few things sorted out."

"You got it Sandburg," Simon nodded – knowing the Sentinel was about to lose his Guide to a major life change, "Jim, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Ok," Jim said uneasily and Blair put out his hand to Dermas. Dermas started and then fished out the piece of paper that held the lawyers' information. Blair stuffed it into a pocket and nodded to Simon before walking out of the office. He crossed to Jim's desk without pausing, snagged his coat and left, with Jim a scant step behind.

0o0o0

Blair was silent on the way to the loft and Jim was glad of it – the time to think was something they both needed. A child to care for would alter Blair's priorities considerably, and Jim had no doubt that his friend would commit to this one hundred percent. Jim was determined to make this easy for Blair – including dissolving their working partnership if that was what the other man wanted.

Once inside Blair hung up his coat, toed off his shoes and carried them into his room, closing the door and disappearing for a few moments. Jim snagged two bottles of fruit juice from the fridge and sat on the couch, waiting until his Guide was ready to face him and tell him how their lives would be now. Blair had a second chance at life, and obviously Fate had decided to exclude Jim from that life.

Blair opened the door and came to sit next to Jim. He accepted the juice – grateful that neither one of them was drinking alcohol, they'd need all their wits now – and took a pull at it before placing it on a coaster.

"I lied," Blair decided to get this part out of the way first, "After the fountain – when we got back I told you I was going to keep on with the Sentinel thesis. But I lied … I went to my committee and told them I was working on the closed society one – the cover story. Because you pulled your waiver Jim, remember? And I worked on the other one at the same time just in case I got to the end and discovered I couldn't publish. It was a back up plan and a handy one. I'm still writing the Sentinel thesis but I'll submit the other one because … well after Alex it's just too dangerous."

Jim stared in shock, but made no move to interrupt as Blair kept on going, not even giving him time to absorb the startling news. Not giving him time to dwell on what Blair obviously saw as another betrayal of the Sentinel's trust. The older man didn't see it that way and was determined to make sure that Blair understood that before the end of this discussion.

"I'll contact my committee and tell them I'm ready to defend the closed society thesis at the end of the month – it's mostly finished anyway. Then I'll start looking for a job. I'll need something in my field that lets me pay attention to …Thomas … but also lets me work with you. We may have to cut down the time I spend at the PD; maybe you and Simon could find you a partner to help out a little. Conner knows, and she'd be good at it. There's nothing at the Uni, but that's ok, if I'm not teaching then I'll have more time for the two of you. I don't want to dissolve our partnership Jim – you're my friend, my soul mate even – but I can't work three demanding jobs at once, hell school and the PD are hard enough to balance at times. So there'll need to be a few changes ok?" Blair kept eye contact with Jim, knowing it was important to let the Sentinel read what was in his heart through his eyes. His love for Jim as well as his worry for the future was evident and it reached Jim through the shock.

"About living space – well, we'll try to find a place close by. I'm kind of hoping you'll like each other, you know? I can't think of a better uncle to give my child. Obviously the loft is way too small for three of us unless I start sleeping with one of you and let's not go there, ok? Jim? You still with me?"

"Yeah, I'm here," Jim put his juice down, leant over and engulfed Blair in a hug. He held on tight and stroked Blair's back until the other man relaxed into him. Knowing Blair could hear him clearly Jim spoke softly.

"My turn, ok? I'm not mad about the thesis. A big part of me is glad that you won't be telling everyone about me. And the rest of me is …going to be glad too, once I get over the idea that you wrote two different theses at the same time. It's not a betrayal, Chief – you were watching my back, just like you always do and I'm grateful for that. And don't worry about living space. The people next door are moving at the end of their lease. We can knock a door in the wall and you two can live there. I … I'm sorry, Chief but I want to know you'll be real close by and I can help with the daddy stuff, you know? You don't have to do this all alone. I want to help – I want to be, as much a part of your family as you'll let me. "

Blair was wrapped tightly around Jim now, and Jim could smell tears, so he tightened his hold and rocked them a bit, still speaking. His Guide's body trembled and he stroked his back and let his voice deepen to a croon. Blair needed this and that was all that mattered.

"I know you are my Guide forever, and I know that you're not saying you want to stop, though God knows it would be safer for you to do that. Let me talk to Simon about the partnership. And don't worry about your job for now. When you get back from New York we'll sort something out. It's too soon to worry about anything else. I love you, Chief, and you're gonna be a great daddy. Just focus on going to get your kid, ok? We'll be ok no matter what happens. Alex taught me some important lessons and I'll be damned if I make the same mistakes and let this destroy us. Whatever you need is what we'll do – no contest."

Jim took a deep breath, feeling his own eyes fill and tears track down his cheeks.

"I'd be honored to be Thomas' uncle."

"I love you too," Blair breathed unsteadily into Jim's neck. Jim stroked his back a little longer, until they were both calm and recovered. Blair straightened up and they sat in silence for a while, shoulders touching as they finished their juice.

"I'll call the airlines and see what we can do for a flight and accommodation. Why don't you pack and call the Uni? And leave me a number for your committee so I can help with that too," Jim suggested. Blair nodded, picked up the cordless and disappeared into his room.

Simon came over that evening. Jim was in the bathroom showering, and Blair was in the kitchen cooking.

"Hey Simon," Blair smiled and Simon was relieved to see the anthropologist back to what passed for normal in the Sandburg Zone. He hung up his coat and went to lean on the counter, accepting a beer from Blair.

"Hey Sandburg – this smells good. Chili?" Simon sniffed the tantalizing aromas and Blair nodded with a grin. His chili was popular in the department and loudly demanded on poker night, departmental dinners and the various weekend sporting competitions that Major Crimes participated in. From the quantity in the pot, Blair was making leftovers for Jim to freeze. The anthropologist knew how tired his partner often was after work and making sure that there was at least something half way healthy available as an alternative to Wonder Burger.

"Yeah," Blair agreed and stirred the pot gently, "Uh… thanks for this morning Simon. I really appreciate it."

"No problem, kid," Simon replied and then blinked, "Hey we'll have to stop calling you that, Professor!"

Blair laughed and saluted with his spoon as Jim came out of the bathroom. He was wrapped in the robe he kept on the back of the door, and Simon had the feeling if it had just been the two of them, Jim would have sauntered past in a towel. Their relationship wasn't sexual, and they were very casual about each other's bodies – their touch light and impersonal or tender and gentle as occasion demanded. Newcomers to the PD often mistook this touching, but were soon set 'straight' by wiser people. No one wanted to deal with a pissed off Ellison – or even worse a ballistic Sandburg.

"I'm sure we'll find plenty of other names for you, Darwin," Jim called on his way past. Blair groaned.

"True, Hairboy, my people are no slouches in that department," Simon nodded, "It's hard to believe the guppy is a dad!"

"Yeah I guess Sandy had us all fooled!" Jim's voice floated down the stairs and Blair hit Simon with the Sandburg grin. There was an evil gleam in his eyes and Simon waited for the zinger.

"I'll show you who's a fool, Uncle Jimmy," Blair called back and Simon nearly choked. A rude noise floated down and Blair shook his head.

"I see you've become a member of the family," Simon said to Jim as he rejoined them in the kitchen and Jim beamed proudly.

"Yep," he saluted with the beer he'd retrieved from the fridge and handed one to Blair. Blair accepted his bottle and the toast, smiling at his friend. They switched to other topics to set the table and eat dinner peaceably.

"So…" Simon dried the last dish and handed it to Blair to be put away. It had become a custom for the three of them to clean up the kitchen when Simon came over – Simon treasured the acceptance it signified. He wasn't a guest in the loft; he was a sometime inhabitant.

"So…" Blair sighed and smiled at the same time, "I leave at nine tomorrow for New York. I've contacted my thesis committee and arranged to defend it at the end of the semester – a month from now. Jim and I agree that it would be too difficult to teach, learn and work at the PD on top of being a dad, so I'll try to find a job that will let me spend a little time with Jim on the job too. Beyond that I have no real plans. I just want to meet Thomas and go from there."

"Fair enough," Simon nodded and joined them in the living room, "Uh, do you want me to sit on this? The gang is pretty curious about what's going on. I think they'd like to help out if they can …you're one of us you know."

"Thanks Simon," Blair's eyes were wide at the compliment and he had a pleased glow to him that Simon wanted to see more of. It took so little to make Blair happy, despite or maybe because of all the things he'd seen and done.

"I discussed this with Jim – and I sent an email off to everyone before I started dinner. They'll have it tomorrow at work. It would mean a lot to me if you'd come see us when I get him back here," Blair waited and Simon nodded, assuring the young man he wanted to meet his son.

"So you're going to stay in Cascade?" Simon asked, trying not to be too obvious. Blair nodded and leaned back into the couch a little.

"I'm committed here, Simon. I don't want to leave my first true home, and Jim. It's not just the Sentinel stuff – sure that's important but … I don't want Thomas to grow up wandering the globe without a home. And Cascade can give him that and a family to boot. We'll have Jim … and you and Daryl too," that last added shyly. Simon felt himself beam with pride and Jim smiled warmly too. It wasn't often Simon got that look on his face – the one that said you'd touched something deep inside him.

"I suspect that Thomas is going to have a PD full of uncles and aunts," Jim said in amusement and Blair shrugged.

"There's more to family than blood ties Jim, and I've met a lot of good people at the PD. Joel's kids call me Uncle Blair – and H is always asking me to baby-sit for his kids. I guess turn about is fair play there, huh?" Blair shifted a little and Jim shot Simon a warning look. Blair was tired by the emotions he'd been riding all day and would fall asleep soon.

"I'll tell them you said that," Simon rumbled quietly as Blair's eyes drifted closed and Jim turned on the television. Simon and Jim watched the nights game quietly, part two of a typical evening when Simon was there. Blair roused once or twice but was otherwise down for the count. Game over, Simon started part three of the evening, going into Blair's room and turning down the bed while Jim roused Blair enough to walk to his room and flop down on the bed again, falling asleep almost instantly. His clothes were loose enough to be comfortable for sleeping in, but Simon was glad he wouldn't have to deal with the wrinkles that would be in the linen shirt tomorrow.

Simon repositioned the covers and Jim checked the room as he always did before checking Blair and following Simon out. Simon gathered his coat up and nodded to Jim.

"I'll see you after you drop the kid at the airport," Simon said quietly, "I've got an idea about work, too."

"Probably the same one I have," Jim replied, "Thanks for not …hassling him. I wish he'd known before. He's missed the start of his son's life and it's bugging him, even though he hasn't said anything. I'll pass the word tomorrow – no teasing."

"I hear that," Simon grinned and Jim laughed at Naomi's favorite saying. They said goodnight and Jim locked up, patrolling the loft once before heading up to his own bed and rest.

0o0o0

Blair took a taxi from the airport to the lawyers. They were in the city – of course – at the top of a modern skyscraper that afforded a fine view of a lot of other skyscrapers. The firm was called Cohen and Cohen and Blair was to meet with one of the senior partners. His name was Fuller.

The office was all deep pile carpeting and antique furniture. Blair felt distinctly out of place with his worn duffel, worse jeans and bright shirt. He'd pulled his hair back – nothing more annoying than having your hair fall into your face in confined quarters and a plane definitely qualified there – and wore his glasses. He'd considered wearing dressy clothes but had decided that comfort was more important on the flight, and besides the Milton's' knew what he normally dressed like and wouldn't be impressed by his one suit.

The receptionist was a little startled – normally their clients wore suits – but agreed to stow his duffel behind the desk while he met with Fuller. Fuller's PA, a young man with a thin face and a beautiful suit, collected Blair from reception and walked him to the corner office that Mr. Arthur Fuller inhabited.

It was done up with antique furniture too and a wall of floor to ceiling bookcases lined with neat rows of leather bound books. Pictures covered the second wall – the door to the office was in a corner and you entered on the diagonal– and they all featured Fuller with a celebrity of one sort or another.

Arthur Fuller was a graying man in his late fifties. He was Blair's height and tanned despite it being winter. His body was well toned the way someone who went to the gym would be. His suit was tailored perfectly and every inch of him was immaculate. His desk was neat too – a computer sat on one corner of it and the leather blotter and antique desk set gleamed in the early afternoon sun. He'd shaken Blair's hand with a firm grip and swept his eyes over Blair in a cataloguing manner before inviting Blair to sit in a leather armchair before his desk and sitting down in his own.

"I take it Mr. Dermas informed you of the situation," Fuller said unnecessarily, "I have some particulars to go over with you and then you'll need to give me your instructions regarding the estate."

"You're to act as trustee in this matter?" Blair asked quietly, and Fuller nodded, subjecting the grad student to another piercing examination. Blair met his gaze tranquilly and folded his hands. Fuller nodded once, as if deciding something and began to speak again.

"Miss Milton has left her entire estate – with the exception of a few bequests – to you Mr. Sandburg," Fuller kept his voice even and quiet, "I expect the final figure to come to you to be just above the three point five million dollar mark. In addition to this Thomas stands to inherit a smaller amount on his eighteenth birthday – he has a trust fund from his grandparents and his mother as well. This money is of course subject to the usual taxes and so on, but you have just become a wealthy young man."

Fuller paused, watching his visitor closely. At the mention of the money Blair had paled and swallowed hard, his whole body tensing. Fuller decided Blair would either ask more about the money or start protesting that he'd give it all away if it would bring Amelia back. What Miss Milton had seen in this man – who hadn't even completed his PhD – to want to father a child with him was beyond Fuller, but he supposed there had to be something worthwhile to him.

"I'm not interested in that," Blair waved the money away, and Fuller anticipated the second part of the sentence, almost disappointed to be right.

"Tell me about my son. Where is he? Is he ok? When can I see him? Who's been taking care of him? How soon can I take him home with me? Does he need anything?" Blair leaned forward, pinning Fuller to his seat with a laser glare of his own, and one that had snapped a certain Sentinel into line more than once. Fuller was no Sentinel and therefore caved in under the pressure. Pleased to be wrong his voice warmed a little.

"He's staying with his Grandparents. They have no wish to contest your right to custody, and you can meet him tonight at dinner. You are welcome to leave with Thomas whenever you wish to. He doesn't need anything," Fuller answered succinctly and was relieved when the glare lessened a little.

"Do you have a picture? What can you tell me about my son?" Blair was embarrassed to have to beg a stranger this way for information, but his need to know was greater. Fuller lifted a file from his tray and handed it over.

Thomas Sandburg had been born three years ago – had just had his third birthday. He was healthy. There were no photos and no mention of him as a person, just the normal medical records from the pediatrician and birth certificates. Blair stared at the piece of paper that named his son and declared his maternal and paternal heritage. Blair clenched his jaw – a habit he'd learned from his partner – and looked over at Fuller.

"Is the address in here? What time may I go and see my son?" he asked tersely and Fuller raised his eyebrows a little at the tone.

"You are to arrive at five. I have made arrangements for you to stay at Miss Milton's' penthouse in the city. I have the keys to it and to her car. I've arranged for my PA to take you there when we've completed our meeting," Fuller's tone was repressive – exactly the wrong thing to use on a hyper active man separated from his family and under pressure. Blair jumped up and held out his hand for the keys.

"Thanks, I'll go now," he replied impatiently, fed up with Fuller's attitude and snobbery; "I'll make an appointment later in the week to let you know about the estate. Can you give me a copy of the will?"

In short order Blair was out of the office and on his way to his ex-girlfriends penthouse.

It was luxurious. The walls were decorated with various expensive pieces of modern art, the floors covered in Persian rugs. Top of the line appliances and fittings adorned each room. The furniture was modern and spotless. Blair wandered from room to room, just looking at all the things in each and wondering why a place full of personal touches was still not a home. It looked a little like a catalogue picture – so neat and tidy.

The kitchen was all stainless steel and marble – a chef's delight really. There was food in the cupboards and refrigerator – the PA had seen to that. He'd also told Blair that bread and milk would be delivered on a daily basis, unless Blair instructed otherwise. The place was sunny and airy, with a breakfast nook tucked away in one warm corner. It adjoined a formal dining room – a large room with a glass wall that offered a view of the city, full of polished wood and graceful chairs. Opposite that was the living room – a huge area with six overstuffed couches and end tables. An expensive entertainment unit sat in a corner and a well-stocked video cabinet rested nearby. This room also had floor to ceiling windows that led out onto an elegant patio, lined with well-shaped shrubs and artfully placed outdoor furniture. Amelia obviously liked to entertain. It struck Blair that he had yet to see any books in the house. Nor was there any evidence a toddler lived here.

This bothered Blair a little and he went looking for the bedrooms. Amelia's housekeeper had cleaned the place one last time and then left, with a generous severance payment and bequest from Amelia. Her room was spotless and empty – the bed stripped and the mattress aired. She had lived in to act as Nanny to Thomas, but had apparently thought nothing of leaving her young charge behind.

The master bedroom was also empty but for the furniture. Someone had been in to take away all Amelias' knick-knacks, clothes and toiletries. The en-suite was empty too, although a set of clean towels rested on the hand basin counter. Blair was uncomfortable at the thought of sleeping there and wandered out again, leaving his duffel in the hallway near the front door.

The next door he tried led to a bathroom – with a huge spa bath and one of those showers that sprayed water from a variety of nozzles at whatever temperature and pressure you liked. The room was done in Italian marble and was almost empty. Under the basin Blair found some children's shampoo and soap. There was a child's toothbrush and some paste on the counter next to a tumbler. This had been Thomas' bathroom then. There were no bath toys here – not even a rubber duck.

Blair stepped back out into the corridor and looked at the final two doors. One would lead to Thomas room – the other would not. Blair chose the closest one and walked into Amelias' study. Here were her books and a top of the line desktop computer. There were several modern leather chairs and lamps dotted about. Amelia's bachelor in anthropology was framed and hanging from the wall beside her masters in psychology. The bookshelves also housed photos of Amelia with various adults and three with an infant. They drew Blair's attention immediately.

In the first Amelia cradled a lace-gowned baby, her own outfit carefully chosen to match the gown. A Christening gown, Blair thought and smiled as he turned his attention to the second photo. The baby was young and dressed in designer rompers. It had blue eyes and curly hair that screamed of its father. He'd inherited Amelias' face and body type – slender and neat. Amelia held the baby proudly. The rompers matched her suit. In the next photo she wore an evening gown and sat with the curly haired boy on her lap. Again his clothes matched hers and he looked solemnly out of the photo at his father. His hair was short in length and artistically tumbled around his face. Blair reached out and stroked the baby with a gentle finger. He was grinning like a lunatic but didn't really care. His son was beautiful and he'd meet him soon.

Blair headed out of the study to the last room. Thomas' bedroom was done in white furniture. The toys were neatly housed on shelves. The bedspread was a light blue colour. There were a few books in the room – mostly fairy tale anthologies done in leather binding. There was no sense that a child lived there. Blair ignored the furniture for a moment and opened the dresser drawers. Underclothes, socks and pajamas rested in the drawers. No t-shirts or sweaters. The closet contained suits, shirts and leather shoes. No play clothes or sneakers. No balls or forgotten toys. There was a rocking chair in the corner with a teddy sitting on it. Its fur was as plush as the day it had been purchased. Blair sat heavily on the bed and shivered. How could a child live in a house and leave no true presence? Or was this one of the places he sometimes lived in – maybe Amelia only lived here when they were entertaining and lived somewhere else for day to day things.

Blair was starting to get a bad feeling about all of this. He looked around again at the sterile room and sighed. A picture frame caught his eye and he got up to look at it more closely. It had been taken in the quad outside Hargrove Hall. Amelia stood in a light linen shirt and jeans, her short blond hair blowing a little in the wind. She was leaning back against a young grinning Blair. She was looking at him; he was grinning at the camera. Blair's breath caught as memories of that summer day threatened to overwhelm him. His son knew what he looked like! She had at least given them that to start on.

Blair left the picture where it was and went to collect the folder Fuller had given him. He carried it into the lounge room, deciding to leave the rest of his exploration for later. He wanted to read over the file now so he'd know what to expect at dinner tonight. He had a few hours until he had to leave, and Blair had gotten directions from the PA so he wouldn't get lost – despite Jim's opinion of his navigating skills.

The Will was a well-crafted document written in plain English. Fuller's' brief summary had been devastatingly accurate, so Blair was not too surprised. Copies of all the relevant deeds and so on were also in the file and Blair put them aside too. At the bottom of the pile was a sealed envelope with his first name on it. The handwriting was Amelias' distinctive scrawl and Blair's hands shook a little as he held it. He put the folder on the table beside the couch and settled back with the envelope. He slit the seal with his thumbnail and pulled the single sheet out. After a moment he put the envelope aside too and unfolded the paper. His name was written at the top and her signature sprawled along the bottom. Blair traced her name with his finger for a moment, then shook himself and began to read. From the date this had been written a few days after Thomas had been born.

Blair,

I guess if you're reading this then I'm no longer around and you have our son, Thomas Sandburg. I gave him your name, Teddy Blair – you are a part of him even if you never knew he existed until now. I'll tell him all about you Teddy – how you are smart and funny and loving and generous. He's going to know who you are – even though you don't know him. It's the least I can do.

I guess you also want to know why I did it – why I kept Thomas a secret from you.

It's hard to write this Teddy. I loved you – part of me always will because you gave Thomas to me. Please don't think I didn't want our baby – because I do. I want to be a mother more than anything. I just didn't want you.

I knew that if I told you I was pregnant that you'd move heaven and earth for me – but that isn't what this is about. It's not your fault Teddy, don't think I was some poor woman left to be humiliated and raise her mistake on her own. I did this.

I lied about the pill and I put a pin through every condom we ever bought – see Teddy, I wanted a baby, really. I just didn't want a husband. You were a great lover and I'll always remember that. But we were from different worlds and while yours was fun to live in for a while I always knew I'd go back to mine.

When Mother and Father brought me home I already knew I was pregnant. I waited until I was showing to tell them and they agreed with my wish not to tell you. They didn't mind that Thomas wouldn't have a father – and this way they could still see me marry one of their eligible bachelors. We all got what we wanted – kind of a win/win scenario. Remember how we used to debate those?

You have every right to be mad at me Teddy, but remember I loved you.

Take care of our son. If I'm not there to do it I know you will. And I know he'll have everything he ever needs as long as he's with you – you'll raise our baby to be smart and funny and loving and generous. Just like you.

Kiss Thomas and tell him mother loves him,

Amelia Milton

Blair put the letter down on top of the pile of documents and closed the folder. He took a deep breath and bolted to the toilet, heaving and retching until he was empty

0o0o0

Amelias' car was a golden coloured limited edition Subaru WRX – a sports car, with all the trimmings. There was a child's car seat in the back, plain and matching the interior trim. The engine hummed to life at a touch and Blair thanked the building valet before getting in. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves, then drove out into the New York traffic. The car smelt new and was spotless inside and out. The low mileage spoke of it's newness and Blair handled it carefully as he wound through the busy traffic across town to the Milton's own penthouse on Long Island.

Once he'd stopped dry heaving Blair had cleaned up and changed. The shower had washed away his tears and let him scream out some of his anger and pain. He'd brought along some formal wear, expertly packed to avoid wrinkles and Blair had dressed in that for the dinner. Dark trousers and a green silk shirt under his black leather jacket were dressy enough to please the Milton's without making Blair too uncomfortable. He'd pulled his hair back again.

He'd desperately wanted to call Jim before he left, but had decided not to. Jim would still be at work and Blair had left a message on the machine at home from the airport to let his friend know he'd landed safely. Besides Blair had a feeling that his friends' kind words and support would let him lose it completely and the last thing Thomas needed was a basket case for a father. He'd call the loft tomorrow and leave the penthouses telephone number on the machine for Jim. He'd also call Simon and do the same; the Captain had asked him to keep in touch and Blair was grateful for the support.

Blair used Amelia's pass card to get into the parking garage and pulled up into a spot marked visitors. He followed the signs to the lift and signed in with the security guard stationed there. He was announced and approved, put into the lift and sent on his way all in a matter of minutes. Blair practiced some meditation on the ride up, and when the doors opened he was calm and centered. The lift let him out into a small lobby that had only one door. It was tiled and lined with carefully shaped shrubs. The door opened as he walked towards it and Mr. Milton met Blair.

Milton was tall and portly. He had the complexion of a man who frequently enjoyed a heavy meal followed by brandy and cigars. His dark suit was formally styled and cut to minimize his figure. An old fashioned gold watch chain gleamed on his waistcoat and the shine on his shoes would have impressed even Jim Ellison's standards.

"Mr. Milton, I'm so sorry for your loss," Blair said it gently, hoping to ease past Amelia's death gracefully. Milton raked his glance over Blair and grunted. His belly bounced at the sound and his face reddened a little. Their last meeting had not been pleasant – Milton had decimated Blair, running down a long list of his faults from the way he looked to his parentage. The fact that the man he had been ranting at was ten times smarter than his own perfect child had only added an edge to the diatribe. Blair had been the perfect gentleman for Amelias' sake and let it all go; though it was one of the reasons he hadn't been too upset when Amelia lost touch with him.

"Yes, well," Milton sniffed and turned around, heading back inside, leaving Blair to follow. Blair shut the front door and followed his host into a large room with couches and chairs. It was full of antiques – the furniture, the art, the floor coverings and the ornaments all spoke of money and age. Mrs. Milton sat in a chair by the window, wearing a dark evening gown; her blonde hair elaborately styled. She was thin tanned, yet she seemed brittle despite the elegance of her posture. Blair was waved over by her husband and he again offered his condolences. She rebuffed him with a sniff and Blair swallowed a sigh. It was going to be a long night – the last thing he needed was to argue with these people in front of his son.

Mrs. Milton stood and walked over to the mantle to press a button with one manicured finger. A young woman in maids' uniform answered the call. Blair controlled his desire to gape – surely no one lived like this?

"Fetch Thomas from his room Claris," Mrs. Milton ordered and received a nod in reply. The girl walked away silently to return a few minutes later with Thomas in tow. The curly haired boy wore a dark suit and leather shoes. His face was solemn, and very sad. He stood perfectly still beside Claris, not looking around or smiling at his grandparents.

"Good evening Thomas," Mrs. Milton said quietly, "You may go Claris."

"Good evening Grandmother, good evening Grandfather," Thomas replied. His voice was soft and without inflection. It was a chilling imitation of his grandparents, but they seemed pleased with it. It sent shivers down Blair's spine.

"Thomas your father has come," Milton announced and waved a hand at Blair, "Remember what I told you boy."

Thomas walked over to Blair, who smiled and got down on his knees to be the same height. Before he could do anything else Thomas held out his hand and said in his unanimated voice,

"Pleased to meet you sir."

Blair took the hand that was offered in reflex and Thomas shook his father's hand. Before Blair could respond Claris appeared again and announced dinner.

"Go with Claris and wash your hands boy," Milton commanded and Thomas turned, walked to the maid and put his hand up, waiting for it to be taken so he could be led from the room. Blair stayed frozen on his knees as his son was led away without a backward glance.

The idea of leaving his son in this place for another night or even a meal revolted Blair and he surged up to his feet. If Thomas had shown any desire to be here – a smile or a warm inflection – Blair would not have dreamt of taking him away from familiar faces so soon. But his son was an automated doll in this house – programmed to respond to commands with rote words and actions. Blair's suspicions about Amelias penthouse returned full force and gave his anger voice.

"Thank you for looking after Thomas. We'll be on our way now," he grated out and hurried to the hallway, not even waiting for a reply. Claris was emerging from a room further down the hall and Blair hurried to her side.

"Where is his room?" Blair demanded and stooped, swinging his son up into his arms. She gaped and then turned, pointing further down the hall. Blair held Thomas close and felt a small hand latch onto his jacket as he hurried to the room. It was sterile and cold. A single bear sat on the pillow and Blair snatched it up, handing it to Thomas before pocketing the brush and comb on the dresser. A few suits hung in the closet – Blair left them there. He strode back into the hall and out the front door; no one watched them leave.

Blair drove back to the penthouse without stopping. Thomas was silent and withdrawn, the bear clutched in his lap. When Blair finally parked and got out of the car tears were tracking slowly down his son's face. The sight melted Blair and he undid the seatbelt quickly, lifting his son out and cradling him to his chest.

"You poor kid," Blair crooned, "It's ok, sweetie. You're ok. I'm here; I've got you. It's all right now."

Keeping up the flow of words Blair got them upstairs and onto the couch. The tears slowed and stopped after a little while and Blair wiped his son's face gently. He kept up the rocking and movement of his hands and Thomas leant into him tiredly. The child pushed the bear away and turned his body into Blair's a little, curling up a bit into the warm body.

"Are you hungry sweetie?" Blair asked gently and felt the nod. He got up and carried his son into the kitchen, deposited him on the counter top and left a hand on his shoulder while he reached for a can of expensive soup. The can opener was automatic and Blair lifted Thomas back onto his hip while he heated the soup on the stove and toasted some of the fresh bread. They sat in the dining room for dinner – with Thomas on Blair's lap, too tired to feed himself.

When dinner was over Blair carried Thomas to his room and undressed him, pulling the warm pajamas from under the pillow on and tucking his son in. He sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed the curls gently until Thomas was asleep. Then Blair cleaned the kitchen up and fell asleep on the couch; curled under a quilt he'd found in the linen press. His computer sat unused in his backpack – there would be no concentrating on the thesis tonight.

The unfamiliar angle of the morning sunlight woke Blair early and he got up slowly. Deciding he needed caffeine to survive what was going to be a very long day, Blair went into the kitchen and started the coffee machine before heading to his son's room. Bright blue eyes peeped at him as the door opened and Blair smiled, coming in to sit on the bottom of the bed.

"Good morning," he said cheerfully. Thomas sat up slowly and Blair grinned at the wildly tousled curls and sleepy expression.

"Good morning sir," Thomas replied dutifully and Blair frowned a little.

"Don't call me that," he blurted, and Thomas' eyes widened, Blair scooted closer and hugged his son. Small hands clutched the ratty shirt Blair wore in winter to sleep. The penthouse had excellent central heating, but Blair just couldn't sleep in short things in winter. Jim teased him about it all the time, but Blair just retorted that not everyone could dial the cold down and then started mentioning tests. Jim shut up pretty quickly then.

"It's ok sweetie, I'm not mad, Shhh," Blair crooned and brushed the curls back, "It's just …I'm not a sir, I'm your father. Did your grandfather say you should call me that?"

Thomas nodded against Blair's chest and Blair sighed.

"I think it would be better if you didn't," he said feeling a little lost. He was called many things but no one, not even his students, called him sir – at Blair's insistence.

"So what should I call you?" Thomas frowned up at Blair and Blair smiled back. He dropped a kiss on his son's face and held him close again, rocking a little. He'd wondered about this himself and decided to let Thomas choose a name his son was comfortable with.

"Well there are lots of names you can call me – from all over the world. How about I tell you some and you can choose?"

When Thomas nodded Blair started listing the names slowly, telling his son a little about where they came from and who used them. Thomas watched his face closely, an arm around Blair's neck and his other hand latched in Blair's shirtfront.

"That one!" Thomas exclaimed a few minutes later, "I'll call you that – it sounds nice."

"Which one sweetie?" Blair asked, "What's my name?"

"Da. Your name is Da," Thomas smiled and hugged Blair. Blair hugged him back and then asked a question that had occurred to him.

"What's your name? What would you like Da to call you?" Blair asked and the arms around his neck tightened a little. The boy pressed his face into Blair's shoulder and Blair stroked his hair gently.

"Tommy," the voice was muffled but understandable, "Can you call me Tommy?"

"Tommy," Blair said warmly and they were quiet. Blair was wondering how to bring up the idea of breakfast when Tommy's stomach growled loudly. Blair laughed and Tommy giggled.

"Oh no it's a monster save me save me," Blair laughed as the stomach growled again. Tommy giggled and growled too.

"I guess I'd better feed you before you eat me, huh?" Blair stood up, and carried his giggling son to the kitchen. He pulled the small stepstool from the pantry into the kitchen and placed it in front of the counter. Then he led a hunt through the kitchen for the frying pan. He called for the wooden spoon like you would a cat and followed Tommy on an expedition for the eggs. He quickly gathered the rest of the things needed for scrambled eggs and stood his son on the stool. He broke the eggs into the bowl and showed Tommy how to beat them. His son did that while Blair pulled out the toaster and dropped some bread in, ready to be toasted. Cautioning Tommy about the stove and making him promise not to do this alone, Blair heated the frying pan and poured the eggs in. He showed Tommy how to stir them so they'd scramble and started the toaster.

Tommy got his first lesson in buttering toast while Blair finished scrambling the eggs and they carried their plates into the breakfast nook to eat. After breakfast Blair cleaned up the kitchen while Tommy sat on the counter beside the sink. A foam fight followed and Blair had to clean the kitchen again before taking his grinning son into the bathroom.

A bit of experimentation with the shower sprays and then they both climbed in. Tommy watched his father closely and copied what Blair did, then sat on the floor and played with a sponge while Blair shaved. He'd learnt to shave without a mirror while on expedition – beards in the jungle itched – and his warehouse didn't have a mirror in the bathroom. Nor did the shower in the loft and Blair found it quicker to shave and shower at the same time, rather than using the basin and mirror. Blair finished, turned the water off and got out, knotting a towel around his waist before crouching down to dry Tommy. The towel was almost as wide as Tommy was tall so Blair wrapped it around his son, covering his head as well and then pretended to lose him, calling for Tommy and opening the cabinet drawers and doors loudly while Tommy stood still and giggled madly.

Blair finally found his son and swept him into his bedroom to get dressed. Faced with a suit Tommy shut down a little, the smile fading away quickly. Blair bit his lip, tugged the trousers and a shirt on, ignoring the tie and jacket. Then he retrieved a pair of jeans and a few shirts from his duffel in the hall and dressed too.

"Ok, kiddo," Blair pulled Tommy into his lap and smiled, "Time for a talk."

"Did I do something bad?" Tommy asked in a subdued voice and Blair shook his head, dropping a kiss on Tommy's temple. The touch starved child leaned into him and Blair wrapped his arms around the small body gently.

"You aren't a bad boy, Tommy," Blair squeezed a little, "I just need to tell you what's going to happen now. You know I don't live here right?"

Tommy nodded, latching a hand into Blair's layers of shirts and Blair smiled at him gently. His son definitely wanted contact with others – and after last night Blair was determined that he'd get it. Jim was a toucher too – they'd get along great in that department.

"You live in Cascade," Tommy said softly, "Mother said so."

"Yep, your Da lives in Cascade," Blair nodded, "And so do you now. We're gonna stay here for just a little while longer for a holiday and then you and me are packing up and heading to Cascade. Do you think you'd like that?"

"Yes," Tommy clutched tighter; "Will Grandmother and Grandfather be there too?"

"No," Blair wondered why the boy was so loyal to two cold adults, but put the thought aside, "They live here in New York. But I'll tell you who will be there … your Uncle Jim."

"I have an Uncle Jim?" Tommy brightened a little and Blair felt a fond smile cross his face at the thought of his friend. He nodded at Tommy.

"In fact Uncle Jim and I share an apartment. It's a little small, but we're going to make it bigger so we can all live together. He's really excited to meet you," Blair assured the boy and got a small smile. An idea hit Blair and he sat up a little, "Hey! I was going to call Uncle Jim and tell him the phone number here. Would you like to do that with me? And I was supposed to call your Uncle Simon too – we can do that too. Then we're going to go get you some new clothes, ok? Phone the Uncles and clothes – that's the plan."

"The plan," Tommy echoed and Blair put him on the couch and went to get the cordless phone from the kitchen. Tommy climbed back into his lap the moment he sat down and Blair snuggled him close before rehearsing the message to be left on the machine with his son. He dialed home and listened to the machine pick up before pressing the phone lightly to Tommy's ear. Tommy exclaimed that he could hear Blair after the machine beeped and Blair laughed, urging him to say his message. They hung up and Blair rehearsed the message to Simon before dialing again.

"He has a grr voice," Tommy commented, "Hello Uncle Simon this is Tommy. You can call Da and me on…"

Blair waited until Tommy said goodbye to the machine and then hung up, praising his son and hugging him.

"Ok, Genius," Blair grinned, "I want you to go to the bathroom and then we're going to get some…. What was it again?"

"Clothes," Tommy said firmly, "Da, you forgot the plan."

"Good thing I have such a smart son then," Blair chuckled and put him down, "Scoot along now."

With Tommy in the bathroom Blair raided the toys on the shelf for a coloring book, story book and a couple of small cars to put in his backpack. He was no child psychologist, but he knew it was better to have something to keep his son occupied with along just in case. His pencil case had enough highlighters and pencils to be useful in the coloring in book – which was pristine. He snagged a pair of leather lace up shoes – the softest he could find and was ready for Tommy when he got out.

Blair checked he had all the keys he'd need and called down to Reception for the car. Then he swung Tommy up on one hip, his backpack over the other shoulder and headed out.

0o0o0

The shopping center they went to was huge. Blair wrote down the floor, colour, number and letter of their parking space – he didn't want to lose the car – and then headed into the busy space. Noise from thousands of voices and the ever-present muzak echoed around the multi-story building. Bright colors clashed for attention and people thronged at varying speeds along the walkways.

Jim would go nuts in here, Blair thought as he walked along through the crowds. He spotted the department store he wanted and headed in, glancing at the directory as he passed it.

"Ok, clothes," Blair announced in ladies underwear, "Is this the right spot?"

Tommy giggled and shook his head.

"This is mother's stuff," his son announced and Blair nodded thoughtfully, walked a bit further along into men's wear and stopped, looking around.

"How about this? It's not mothers stuff," Blair pretended to hold a shirt up that would have fit Jim to measure it against Tommy.

"Its Da stuff," Tommy protested. Blair put the shirt back and looked puzzled.

"So what do you need?" he asked, and Tommy frowned, thinking hard. His face cleared and he beamed as if he'd solved a riddle. Blair held his breath to see what his son would come out with.

"I need Tommy stuff!" he announced and Blair laughed, bounced his son on his hip in congratulations and set off for the boy's wear. Once they got to the right area he put Tommy down and crouched in front of his son for a moment.

"I want you to hang onto me so we don't get lost ok? And if you see something you like let me know and we'll try it on," Blair smiled and Tommy nodded, looking around at all the bright colors. Blair stood up and Tommy grabbed his jeans just above his knee. They walked slowly, with Blair snagging the occasional shirt. When they reached the trousers Blair quickly selected a few pairs of jeans in blue and black and some cargo pants in the right size. Tommy fingered some navy corduroy pants and Blair added them to his selection with a smile. This seemed to free Tommy from whatever had been restraining him and he practically dragged his Da back to the shirts to pick out a few in various colors. Blair had found a duffel coat in the closet by the door this morning – Tommy would get plenty of wear out of it, so he didn't need a new coat. They reached a selection of wool sweaters and Tommy ran his hands over them all before selecting three. Blair was careful to encourage colors that would mix well together, without discouraging his son. Tommy was quick to pick this up and he held several of his selections against the things Blair already held to match or discard them. He talked non-stop the whole time and Blair soaked up every word – proof that his son was still in there under the solemn façade.

The change room was a real adventure for Tommy as Blair struggled to make sure everything would fit and was good quality for a growing boy. Once everything had been tried and approved they headed for the shoe section. Blair found a pair of sneakers with blue trimming to fit Tommy who insisted on carrying them as they headed to the checkout.

Blair's emergency credit card took a beating at the checkout, but for once the anthropologist didn't mind – nothing was too good for his son. They went back to the car with all the bulging bags and Blair put them in the trunk before turning to Tommy.

"Alright sweetie, let's get you into some normal clothes. Pick out what you'd like to wear and we'll go get changed," Blair ordered and held Tommy up so he could go through the bags. Tommy dug out the sneakers first and Blair put them to one side while his son fished for the navy corduroy trousers and a dark green sweater in a cable knit that Blair had chosen. Selection over, Blair put his son in the trunk and changed his shoes straight away before picking up the trousers and sweater and starting to close the trunk.

"Da! I'm still here!" Tommy scolded and Blair opened it up again grinning at the frowning face.

"Gotcha," Blair chortled and swung Tommy onto his hip. He grabbed his bag, stuffed the clothes in and headed back into the mall. There was a mother breastfeeding in the parents' room, but Blair ignored her to deposit Tommy on a couch and cut the tags from the clothes. Tommy wriggled about in excitement, making things a lot harder, but after a lot of perseverance and a few quiet words Blair got him dressed and back in his sneakers. Blair caught his breath a little. Gone was the stiff figure in adult clothes – Tommy looked like any kid dressed warmly for winter in the jumper and navy corduroy.

"Whew!" Blair wiped his brow, "All done. Ok, sweetie – go look."

He folded away the dress shirt and suit trousers, putting them into the backpack and zipping it up before turning to see why his son was so quiet. Tommy was standing in front of the wall mirror, smudged with the hand marks of many other children, staring at his reflection. He was crying.

"Tommy!" Blair exclaimed and knelt beside him, "Sweetie – what's wrong?"

"That's me," Tommy whispered and touched his reflection, "I look like the other kids now."

He threw his arms around Blair's neck and Blair carried him back to the couch.

"Da's here baby, it's ok," Blair sighed and tried hard not to think ill of the dead. He patted Tommy's back until the tears stopped and then sat quietly for a few minutes.

"Are you hungry Tommy?" Blair asked and Tommy nodded, "Let's wash up and go get something to eat huh? Then we can explore the mall for a bit."

He washed his son's face and their hands, then – in a move that was becoming so practiced as to be second nature – swung his son and his bag into place and headed past the mother for the food court.

A bit of fast talking at the natural food stand got them an apple each, cut into quarters and a banana smoothie to share. Fortified by the fruit Tommy cheered up and started looking around, asking questions and pointing at things that caught his attention. Blair took them window shopping, then found a bookstore that was holding a story time for children and sat them both down at the back to listen to a story about dragons. Tommy pulled his father over to the children's section and found another book on dragons and one about a mad professor that Blair bought happily and tucked into the backpack.

Lunch was sandwiches from a salad bar and more fruit juice – which prompted a stop at the men's room. Tommy was happy to walk for a while after that, his hand clutched in Blair's – neither one willing to separate for too long. They found a toy store and came away with a coloring in book full of dragons and a rubber duck. The other toys hadn't really interested Tommy, to Blair's secret relief. His credit card couldn't take another hit like this morning.

Blair stopped at the tourist information desk for a few brochures and then carried a now very sleepy young man out to the car. Tommy slept all the way home and didn't wake when Blair carried him up to the penthouse and put him on the couch. He pulled the quilt he'd used last night over his son and took the phone out to the patio, leaving the door ajar to hear if his son called.

He called Fuller, left a message with the PA and tugged his coat closer around his body as he sat in one of the chairs out there. The day had started warmly enough, and they'd only really braved the weather once or twice, but now it was clouding over – there was snow on the way. Blair drew his legs up and looked out across the city. He folded his body into a half lotus and focussed on his breathing. Time slipped by without mark until the phone rang.

"Sandburg," Blair said absently, "Oh hello Mr. Fuller. Thank you for returning my call … yes he's here – he's asleep at the moment … You said that I had full custody and could … I felt it more important that Tommy and I get to know each other… yes I've decided what to do with the estate. I'll keep the car and a few things from here and we'll sell the rest. I'll be out of the penthouse by Sunday – you can have appraisers or whatever in on Monday… to Cascade naturally, after all that's where the family is …you heard wrong then. My brother lives in Cascade …yes …They are welcome to visit with a little advance notice …well the next time you see them you can tell them that…oh, come on Mr. Fuller, I've been here with Tommy for a day and I certainly didn't call to tell you I was taking him away from the Milton's…yes well, that's your problem …look I have to go, Tommy's waking up…yes, I'll be in touch …goodbye."

Blair hung up the phone and went back inside. Tommy sat up and looked around. He was sleep mussed again and Blair sat next to him, smiling at his gorgeous son. He tugged the quilt down a little and Tommy yawned.

"Hello you," Blair reached out to push Tommy's hair back from his eyes.

"H'lo. We're here," Tommy looked around and Blair smiled.

"Yep. You went to sleep and Da carried you up here," Blair stood and folded the quilt, "Want to keep me company while I cook dinner? You can colour in your book if you like."

Tommy got up and followed Blair into the kitchen, still half asleep. He accepted a glass of milk and the package from the toy store. Blair had included some colour pencils in their purchase and Tommy started coloring the first picture slowly and neatly. Blair found a radio and tuned it to an oldie station. He danced around the kitchen as he prepared a simple spaghetti meal, much to Tommy's amusement. They left the radio on while they ate in the breakfast nook and they danced together as they cleaned up the kitchen after dinner. Blair put the TV on in the living room and found a nature documentary to watch while he cut the labels off the clothes the valet had delivered from the car and Tommy sprawled on the rug with his coloring book.

At eight Blair rounded his son up and tucked him into bed. He put the phone on the bedside table and sat against the headboard with Tommy's dragon book. They were halfway through the story when the phone rang and Blair snagged it from the table to answer it.

"Hello," he smiled when he heard the familiar voice and some of the tension in his shoulders eased, "Hello Jim. No it's not too late – we were just reading a story before bed…sure you can, hang on a moment. Tommy, do you want to talk to Uncle Jim?"

Blair handed the phone over and put the book to one side, smiling as his son said hello hesitantly. His answers were soft and hesitant until Jim lucked into asking about the books they'd bought. Then he was talking a mile a minute, only winding down when a yawn threatened to split his head in half. He nodded and handed the phone back up to Blair before scooting down in bed a little. Blair stroked his hair as he lifted the phone back to his own ear.

"Jim? I'll call you back, ok," Blair said quietly, "He's almost asleep."

"I'll be here," Jim rumbled comfortingly and Blair hung up. He switched the lamp off and sat in the dark until Tommy let go and relaxed into sleep.

0o0o0

Tommy played with the rubber duck and the sponge while Blair shaved the next morning. They put the radio on to make breakfast – Blair's special oatmeal with raisins. Tommy danced around the kitchen while Blair cleaned up after breakfast and then raced down the hall to pick what clothes he'd wear that day. The navy corduroy made another appearance – and Blair realised that he'd just encountered one of the many parent pit-falls, the 'favorite clothes'.

Dressed warmly and with the new coloring book in Blair's pack, father and son headed out for the car again.

"Where are we going Da?" Tommy asked as Blair pulled away from the curb and steered the car along the avenue. Blair flicked a glance at his son in the mirror and smiled. The curly head was twisting from side to side, looking out the windows and his sneaker-clad feet were kicking with unconscious energy. His face had lost its solemn mask and his blue eyes sparkled with interest.

"It's a surprise – but you can try to guess it if you like," Blair challenged and grinned as Tommy actually bounced. That little mannerism would have Jim in stitches – Jim always seemed to grin when Blair bounced, on Tommy it was adorable.

"Okay, I know! We're going to Cascade!" Tommy clapped his hands. Blair shook his head, and concentrated on the traffic.

"Not for a little while yet, short stuff! Try again!" Blair encouraged, and Tommy wriggled all over like an excited puppy.

"But I want to see Uncle Jim!" Tommy protested and Blair grinned in the mirror at his son.

"I have a photo in my wallet and it won't be too long – just a few more sleeps, ok sweetie? I'll show you the photo as soon as we get there."

"Promise?" Tommy leaned forward and Blair turned a little, glad the light was red so he could face his son for a moment.

"I promise, sweetie, as soon as we get there. Now – what's your next guess?"

Tommy nodded and smiled at his Da before looking out the window again. Blair turned back and eased the car forward, enjoying the smooth responsiveness of the gears and steering. He'd asked Jim to get the Volvo valued last night – with a child to care for reliable transport was a must, so the 'classic' had to go.

"Umm, ok I know to the mall!" Tommy cried, and Blair shook his head.

"Not today, kiddo – we went yesterday remember? Try again."

"The moon?" Tommy suggested with a wicked gleam in his eyes and Blair laughed in surprise. Tommy giggled too, a delightful sound. Blair glanced in the mirror again and smiled, shaking his head.

"Sorry, not today. Maybe some other day huh?" Blair tilted his head a little and then changed lanes, "I'll give you a hint – there are a lot of animals there."

"A farm," Tommy clapped, "With cows and chickens and dogs!"

"Nearly Tommy. These animals are very different to cows and chickens," Blair hinted, "They come from different countries and some are very big, and some are very small. They're all different colors too."

"Umm," Tommy rocked in his seat a little, hands and feet moving as he stared out the window. Blair spotted their turning and changed lanes smoothly, taking the off ramp and following the signs. They passed a billboard with a giraffe and elephant on it and Tommy's eyes widened even further. Blair mused to himself that if his son opened his eyes any more they'd fall right out.

"There! We're going there!" Tommy pointed to the next sign, but didn't seem to know the right word.

"It's called a zoo, sweetie. We're going to see all the animals at the zoo," Blair gave in and Tommy bounced and rocked at the same time, making Blair glad the straps on his son were secure.

The car park was busy and Blair had to park quite a distance from the zoo entrance. He didn't mind the walk, and Tommy would be able to burn off a little of the excited energy in the car park before they got to the entrance. He got out, opened his son's door and undid the straps, standing back to let Tommy out and shouldering his backpack at the same time. Tommy climbed out and helped shut the door before Blair locked the car. He stood with his hands at his sides and an expectant look on his face as Blair pocketed the keys.

"Ready to go short stuff?" Blair grinned and stepped back to let his son out from between the cars. Tommy shook his head.

"You promised," he reminded Blair and Blair had to think for a moment before remembering what he'd promised at the beginning of the trip. He clicked his fingers, dropped to a knee and fished out his wallet. The picture was cut down from a Polaroid taken at one of the departmental softball games. Jim had an arm around Blair and his hand on Simon's' shoulder. All three were grinning widely. He turned the wallet around so Tommy could see and pointed as he spoke.

"That's Uncle Jim," Blair pointed, "And that's Uncle Simon, too."

Tommy leant over and scrutinized the picture of the three friends carefully. It was a rare shot and one that Blair loved – his Sentinel was relaxed and happy, their Chief in a playful mood and the Guide off duty. Joel Taggert hadn't meant to take the picture – he'd been trying to reload the camera and it had gone off while pointing at the threesome, who'd been laughing at Henri Brown's antics with Brian Rafe. Joel had put the picture in Blair's pack without looking at it and Blair had found it later when he was cleaning the pack out. He'd cut it down on the spot and stuck it into his wallet. Every time he saw the photo it made him smile. Tommy traced Jim's face with a cautious finger and smiled up at his Da.

"He's big!" Tommy said softly and Blair grinned, echoing the touch before putting the wallet away.

"He's strong and smart too," Blair's pride in his friends' accomplishments showed in his voice. Tommy leaned in for a hug and then Blair stood, "Catch hold Tommy and we'll go see what kind of animals live in the zoo. Don't let go no matter what, ok?"

"Ok Da," Tommy grasped Blair's jeans in one hand and they walked towards the entrance. Once inside Blair swung Tommy up onto his hip and glanced at the brightly colored map just inside the entrance. He'd never been to zoo as a kid – he'd gone in college to the one in Cascade, which was quite good. Blair preferred to see the animals in their native habitat, but understood the need for conservation efforts the zoos were making nowadays. One day Tommy would have the chance to travel to the wild to see these animals – Blair was a wanderer at heart and planned to give Tommy the same opportunity to experience different cultures and places once he was older and more settled at home. This was more of a pipe dream at the moment, but Blair liked that kind of dream: it was something to work towards. Maybe Jim could be persuaded to come too – a family safari.

"What does it say Da?" Tommy asked, touching the coloured map with a finger. Blair came back to the present and smiled at his son. Tommy's duffel was bunched up, lending a comical air to the boy.

"Each colour is for a different country, Tommy – and the animals that live in it. There's Africa, and Thailand and Australia and New Zealand," Blair pointed to each area and Tommy frowned.

"What animals live there?" he asked, looking at Blair seriously, "How do we know where to go?"

"Well, we can plan which ones we want to see and follow the map from one place to the other or…" Blair trailed off mysteriously and Tommy clutched his jacket lapel in excitement. Blair was glad that the leather was tough or it would have been pulled seriously out of shape.

"What Da?" Tommy asked breathlessly and Blair gave him a secret smile. He leaned in to whisper in Tommy's ear.

"Or we can go and explore," Blair whispered. Tommy started bouncing on his hip and pulling on his jacket. Oh yeah – Jim would have a field day with that mannerism.

"Explore! Let's explore!" Tommy cried and Blair swung Tommy to the ground. Tommy latched onto the jeans without being told and Blair shaded his eyes like an explorer would, looking left and right carefully.

"Which way, oh brave and fearless leader?" Blair asked his son, who copied his movement for a moment and then pointed decidedly.

"That way!"

"That way it is!" Blair cried and they were off.

They wandered up and down paths for hours, looking at the animals and talking. Blair read out the information and then added his own knowledge and experiences. He'd met a lot of animals on his travels and had collected a lot of second and third hand stories too. The pair drew the attention of other parents and patrons as they laughed and chattered. Tommy kept one hand firmly latched on Blair's jeans at all times, unless he was being carried – then the hand was attached to Blair's collar.

The elephants astounded the little boy, who was amazed that something so big could also be so quiet – until one let out a huge trumpet at the tourists and waved its trunk. Blair told Tommy about the mahouts and how they loved and cared for their elephants and also about the elephant Gods from India. The polar bears barely rated a glance, and the tigers were examined from head to toe before being pronounced 'too much like Grandmother's cat'. Blair caught several patrons around him swallowing laughter at that little gem and had to rub his mouth to keep from laughing too.

The black jaguars got a special mention from Blair, and Tommy loved the lions and their new cubs, which were tousling on the grass of their large enclosure. They spent a lot of time in the aviary where the birds from rainforests all over the world flew fairly freely. The Australian Parakeets had been domesticated and would sit on your arms to be fed seed from your hands, making their odd noises as they did. Blair had bought a disposable camera at the entrance and took several pictures of Tommy and the birds together.

They got to the giraffe's enclosure and Tommy was captivated. Something about the graceful yet ungainly animals fascinated him, and Blair took a picture of Tommy pointing to one of the animals as it came close. He had to restrain his son from climbing up on the rail and leaning over, much to Tommy's indignation. Any conflict was headed off at the pass by a loud growl from the young explorers stomach and Blair promised to come back with his son before they left.

They bought hotdogs from a dispenser and sat on a bench near the gift shop to eat them. This necessitated a visit inside and while Tommy was looking at a selection of plush toys Blair found a book of animal legends from around the world and another of the animals they'd seen in their natural habitats. He glanced over in time to see Tommy finger a brightly coloured giraffe – one of those made from natural fibre, roughly woven and dyed various colors. Tommy put his hand in his pocket and then went to watch a nearby zoo employee bend balloons into animal shapes. Blair picked up the giraffe and glanced at the One World label. It had been made from all traditional and natural fibres and the sale would go towards the people who made it. But most importantly it was a giraffe and Tommy had wanted it. Blair made his purchases quickly and put them into his pack. The giraffe had to bend its neck a little, but it fit in the pack well enough.

They went to the monkeys and apes next. The Barbary Apes inspired the edited tale of how Da came to live with Uncle Jim, and had Tommy laughing hard. The gorillas fascinated the boy and Blair got a great shot of Tommy mimicking the alpha male's posture. Most of the afternoon was spent with the primates – they were too funny to just glance at – and Blair only succeeded in luring his son away with promises of animals he could touch.

The petting enclosure was – to put it mildly – a zoo as kids and parents dashed everywhere. Tommy loved the larger animals and scorned the traditional fluffy lamb and ducklings. He proudly rode a camel and Blair took pictures for 'Uncle Jim to see when we get to Cascade Da!'

He was persuaded with difficulty that Uncle Jim would not like them to bring home a nice carpet python – even one without teeth. He had to settle for taking a picture of the python draped over Da like a living scarf, and one of the attendants took a picture of them both holding the python and grinning.

A final trip back to the giraffes via the rhino enclosure– with Tommy in his father's arms now as the excitement caught up with him – and then Blair headed back to the car. Tommy let his head rest on Blair's shoulder and Blair talked quietly of all the things they had seen. It would take several visits for them to see the whole zoo properly, but the little boy had seen all he wanted and the time spent together was more precious to Blair than a complete tour of the zoo.

"Ugh," Blair groaned as he put his pack on the car seat next to Tommy, "That got heavy!"

Tommy looked at the pack and then back at his Da curiously. Blair rubbed his chin and frowned in thought.

"You don't think one of the animals climbed in when we weren't looking, do you?" he asked his son seriously and was delighted when Tommy considered the idea carefully.

"It would have to be a small animal Da," Tommy pointed out and Blair nodded.

"Or a magical one," he agreed, "Should we open it and look inside?"

"I will!" Tommy reached over and tugged on the zipper. The giraffe's neck straightened as it was freed from the zipper, making the head pop out of the pack suddenly. Tommy gave a shout and snatched the toy from the bag, hugging it to his chest. Blair smiled and stroked the chestnut curls.

"He must have liked you as much as you liked him. A magic giraffe!" Blair fooled and was rewarded with a hug and a damp face buried in the crook of his neck. The giraffe was squashed between them.

"Love you," Tommy whispered and Blair tightened his hold for a moment.

"Love you too, Tommy. Always," Blair blinked back a few tears of his own and smiled for Tommy when the boy looked up at him, "What are we going to call your magic giraffe?"

"Raffey," Tommy replied as he was belted in. The boy was asleep before they got out of the car park; Raffey clutched tightly to his chest.

0o0o0

After what had become their morning routine of breakfast shower and dress, Blair spent some time making calls to Fuller and the rail freight company. He booked the Subaru on a freight train heading to Cascade on Sunday morning – the best way to get the car there without driving it himself. He also confirmed his booking on the flight back to Cascade with Tommy and Jim – the Sentinel had declared his intention to fly down on Friday night and return with them on Sunday. They were going to pack the things Blair wanted to take back to Cascade on Saturday and load them into the Subaru – no point in paying two freight charges to Cascade when the roomy car would fit what they needed. Tommy's toys, clothes and a few pictures would come back on the plane with them, as it would take several days for the car to arrive.

Tommy and Raffey occupied themselves on the rug with the photo journal that Blair had bought at the zoo. Raffey had yet to stray far from Tommy's side – though Blair had managed to persuade the boy to leave the toy on the basin during their morning shower. Blair came and sprawled on the rug beside his son, and they looked at the pictures together. They would have to visit the lawyers this afternoon to sign some papers and finalize Blair's instructions for the sale of the penthouse and its contents. That didn't leave much time for playing today, and Blair was thinking about a picnic in the park when Tommy spoke up.

"Da – how did the first explorers make pictures of the animals? Did they have cameras too?"

He was looking at a picture of a giraffe at the time, and leaning Raffey over to see too. Blair propped himself up a bit more and smiled at the sight.

"Da?" Tommy looked up and Blair reminded himself of the question quickly.

"Um, they drew pictures of what they saw and wrote descriptions in their journals, mostly," Blair replied, "Sometimes they caught an animal and brought it back – but a lot of them didn't make it."

"They died?" Tommy looked up sharply and Blair just nodded, stroking his son's arm and waiting to see where this would take them. Tommy bit his lip and hugged his toy close.

"It's ok to be sad sweetie," Blair said and draped an arm over his son. Tommy leaned into him for a little while and Blair decided to distract him with the original topic.

"They still have the pictures the first explorers drew and their journals too," Blair smiled at the solemn face that looked up at him, "They're on display in the Natural History Museum. Would you like to go see them?"

It worked and Tommy smiled happily, jumping up and picking Raffey up off the floor.

"Now?" he asked eagerly and Blair grinned, getting up too. He headed for the door, book in hand.

"Right now. Leave Raffey with me and go visit the bathroom, little man. Then get your sneakers. I'll put Raffey at the door with my bag," Blair held out a hand and Raffey was reluctantly handed over before Tommy scampered off. Blair had managed to hide the navy corduroy last night and Tommy had selected a pair of jeans to wear instead. Blair would run a wash on Saturday to avoid packing dirty clothes back to Cascade. Jim was bringing suitcases with him for Tommy's clothes and a few toys, so Blair didn't need to worry too much about that.

Blair called down for the car and then packed a few light snacks in his pack. The coloring book, pencils and cars were still in there and he added the book, perching Raffey on guard on top of the pack. Tommy hurried out of his room sneakers in hand, and grinned when he saw the giraffe balancing on the pack. Getting him to sit still so the sneakers could be put on and tied was tricky, and Blair had to threaten to leave Raffey behind before his excited son would calm down enough to get properly dressed. They put their coats on and Blair picked up his boy and bag and headed down to the ground floor.

Parking was a trial, but they finally managed to get into the museum. Blair carried Tommy from exhibit to exhibit – it was not a short persons display – and read out the information at each place. Tommy was curious how they got the animals to stand still long enough to be drawn and Blair had to explain the idea of quick sketches and good memories.

"And sometimes they got it wrong," Blair added, "That's supposed to be a wolf. It doesn't look anything like a real wolf, but the man drawing it was excited."

"The wolves at the zoo were different," Tommy agreed, "They weren't ugly like that."

The comment earned them a few smiles from the people around them and Blair hugged his son to him as they moved on. They avoided the taxonomy exhibit – Blair didn't want to upset his son again and wasn't too comfortable looking at the stuffed animals anyway – and wandered into the dinosaur exhibit. The bones and the accompanying pictures fascinated Tommy. They weren't like anything he'd ever seen and therefore it didn't connect in his mind that these too had once been alive; Blair didn't push the idea. He walked through this exhibit, clutching Blair's knee, as was their custom. They made a game out of what sort of noises the dinosaurs might have made, and then listened to the 'alive' versions as they roared and moved.

Once they finished with the dinosaurs Tommy was hungry enough to be happy to leave and Blair found a sub stand in the nearby park. They ate lunch on a bench and then Blair took Tommy to a playground nearby. He sat on the grass nearby while Tommy and Raffey explored the slide and jungle gym. Raffey gained an admirer – a little girl Tommy's age with almond skin and a freckled nose. Blair was relieved to see his son able to relate casually to another child. At least his upbringing had included that, even if he was a little unsure at times.

After a while Blair lured his son away from the playground and headed for their appointment with Mr. Fuller. The receptionist looked very flustered – obviously children were as out of place as jeans in this office – and the PA looked a little unsure.

"Would you like me to take him during your meeting?" the PA asked, hesitating outside Fuller's door and Tommy shook his head emphatically, clinging tightly to Blair. Blair smiled at his son and the PA.

"It's ok, Tommy has some things to play with while we talk. He'll be just fine, won't you short stuff?"

"I'll be good, Da," Tommy promised and got himself a hug and a kiss.

"I know you will. You're a good boy," Blair reassured Tommy, feeling the hand latched into his collar and the way Tommy was trying to wrap his legs around Blair's body. The PA led them in and Blair shook Fuller's hand, introduced Tommy and placed his son on the floor near the bookcase. Fuller was wearing a charcoal gray suit today with a crisp white shirt. Blair looked positively threadbare beside him, but didn't seem to notice as he pulled all the toys and books out for Tommy before going to sit in the chair opposite Fuller's desk.

They went through everything, with Blair demanding plain English explanations for the documents written in pure legalese. He kept notes and asked questions, not afraid to profess his ignorance in the face of his son's welfare and future. Fuller was kept on his toes – most clients just nodded their head and accepted what he said on face value and trust. The lawyer found it a refreshing change – not that he wanted all his clients to become so demanding.

Jim had suggested they get his lawyer in Cascade to go over everything as well and Blair requested copies of everything be sent to this man's office. Jim had already arranged it with his lawyer – had in fact done so before discussing the option with Blair, surmising correctly that when gentle persuasion failed guilt would succeed.

Three long hours later everything was finally settled and Blair carried a now drooping Tommy out of the office and back to the car. The motion of driving put Tommy to sleep again and Blair had to carry him up to the apartment – reflecting that this was becoming a habit. Not that Blair minded. The sense of trust and love he got from doing this outweighed the weight and worry of carrying a sleeping three-year-old, a full backpack and a toy giraffe.

He settled Tommy on the couch again and went to cook dinner, turning the radio on enough for Tommy to hear when he woke, but not loud enough to disturb his sleep. Dinner was a stir-fry and Tommy wandered in, sniffing the air and trailing Raffey as Blair finished it. He hooked an arm around Blair's knee and peeped up at the stove.

"Hey there short stuff. Feel better?" Blair asked as he stirred the vegetables. Tommy nodded against his leg and leaned a little harder.

"Smells yummy," Tommy yawned, "What is it?"

"Dinner," Blair laughed and turned off the heat. He quickly served two portions and carried them to the nook, Tommy clinging every step of the way. He looked a little sticky and rumpled from the nap, but ate with a good appetite. He pronounced the dinner his favorite and they had ice cream for dessert. Blair washed up and Tommy danced with Raffey to the radio.

"Da," Tommy said as Blair folded the towel – even in New York the Ellison house rules held firm. Blair looked down and smiled.

"Yes sweetie?"

"Feel sticky, and yuck," Tommy frowned and Blair nodded. His son was grubby from the playground and running around and shouldn't go to bed like that. Blair felt sticky too but was planning on a shower once Tommy was asleep.

"How about a bubble bath?" Blair suggested, thinking that they should probably enjoy the spa bath while they had it – inherited fortune or not, Blair couldn't afford one in Cascade, "I think Raffey would love to see you in a bubble bath. And no, he can't swim with you. Giraffes don't have baths, it's a rule."

"Ok," Tommy agreed and walked happily to the bathroom. Blair filled the tub while Tommy sat on the floor and worked out how to undo his shoes carefully and pull them off. He also struggled out of his clothes – Blair watching carefully the whole time to prevent a fall or slip.

There was no bubble bath, so Blair used the body wash he'd brought along from home. He turned the jets on and Tommy watched as the water foamed up and bubbled around the tub.

"In you get," Blair swung his son into the warm water and Tommy splashed around a little. The rubber duck was thrown in and bobbled around madly. The idea of playing in the bath was new to Tommy – evidently he'd been washed and dried in rapid order – so Blair made a game of dunking the duck. After a while he picked up the sponge and gently massaged his son with it, making Tommy sleepy again as the gentle touches and warm water soothed him.

Blair draped a towel over his lap and sat Tommy in it to dry him. A second towel wrapped him up and Raffey was snagged on the way to the bedroom. He managed to get Tommy's pajamas on quickly and then tucked his son up for the night.

"Love you Da," Tommy said in a small voice and Blair kissed him gently.

"Love you too Tommy," Blair waited until the boys breathing evened out and slowed before heading back to the bathroom. He drained the tub while he showered and then mopped and tidied the bathroom up before heading back out to the couch he'd been using as a bed. His laptop was underneath and he hooked it up to the power before turning it on and beginning the review of the next chapter of his thesis.

Jim had not called tonight – they'd agreed it was better if the detective initiated contact as his schedule was the most erratic – and Blair felt disappointed. He missed the nightly contact with his friend; it was a chance to touch base with another adult and also a chance to check on his Sentinel's health and general well being. Sudden parenthood had not diminished Blair's commitment as a Guide, a commitment he affirmed with Jim in the nightly phone calls.

Blair was disturbed in the middle of his rewrite by the front door chime. House security hadn't called up a guest and Blair wasn't expecting Jim for another twenty-four hours. The detective had decided to catch the red eye to New York on Friday after work to help with the packing on Saturday. Blair glanced at the display – two a.m. He got up, hit the save key and walked quickly to the door. There was a peephole there and he used it – Jim had ingrained that action into him, though they didn't have one at the loft. Blair froze for a moment and then swallowed hard to find his voice.

"What about a password?" he called through the door, grinning like an idiot. His hands fumbled at the locks for a moment before working right and unlocking the door. The train door had been easier to open for suddenly shaky hands.

"It's Ellison," the well-loved voice called and Blair opened the door.

Jim looked exhausted. His eyes were red and he was leaning against the doorjamb. Two suitcases rested on the floor beside him – for Tommy's clothes and toys on Saturday. He grinned back and lunged a little to get upright, straight into Blair's arms. Blair felt Jim pull him close and leaned into his friend, grateful for the warmth and support. Jim buried his face in Blair's hair and they stood still for a moment, reconnecting and familiarizing themselves with each other. Jim's clothes were crumpled and he smelled like an airplane, but Blair didn't care.

"It's so good to see you," Blair sighed, "You're early! How'd you get the time off?"

Jim let him pull back and smiled. The familiar energy thrummed through Blair, making Jim feel more awake than he had for a while.

"Leave without pay," he shrugged and let go, turning to grab a case. Blair ducked under his arm to grab the other one. It was empty so he stashed it in the closet.

"I didn't make your bed yet – I'll do it now," Blair said and turned to hurry down the corridor to get what he'd need. Jim grabbed the back of the sweat pants Blair was wearing and stopped him from moving, grinning again when Blair looked back in confusion.

"Can I look in on my nephew?" Jim not so subtly hinted and Blair smiled.

"Sure you can," he nodded and moved forward a little. Jim let go and shadowed him down the hall to Tommy's room. Blair went in first; standing against the wall to watch as Jim crept forward silently. There was enough light for Blair to see Jim's outline, but to the Sentinel it would be as bright as day. Tommy was lying on his back, blankets across his chest, one arm around Raffey; the other flung over his head. Blair knew from memory that his son's face would be peaceful and angelic in his sleep – he was beautiful and Blair felt a tinge of pride. Jim bent to peer at his nephew and sucked in a breath.

"He looks just like you Chief!" he exclaimed in a whisper, ghosting a hand forward to touch the tousled curls. Blair grinned as Jim stared his fill and then crept back. Blair preceded Jim into the hall and then pulled Tommy's door partially shut. They walked a few steps down before Blair turned to look at Jim's face. Jim looked …awed. As if he couldn't believe what he'd seen.

"He's beautiful," Jim murmured and Blair nodded. He'd felt this awe every time he checked on his sleeping son – and a fierce urge to protect him, as he grew older.

"He's smart too, and funny. You'll love him Jim, I know it," Blair swallowed and turned for the linen closet, "You must be exhausted. I'll get the master bedroom made up for you – it has an en-suite and…"

"I don't want to turn you out of your bed, Sandburg," Jim wisely decided not to press things now – Blair was too emotional to accept any rational discussion of his son's attributes. Blair smiled, opening the closet quietly.

"I've been sleeping on the couch. It's comfortable and not too far when I crash after working on the thesis," Blair explained, "You're not turning me out of anything."

He handed Jim the bed linen and led the way to the master bedroom, flipping on the light switch and crossing to the large bed. The room still looked barren and cold, but Jim liked minimal input at night and this room would suit his needs to a T. Jim looked around from where he stood in the doorway and shook his head.

"No way – this is nasty," Jim frowned, "No wonder you're sleeping on the couch. There's a second one isn't there?"

"The housekeeper's room?" Blair asked, a little confused. He was rapidly approaching his energy limit and would crash soon – Jim or no Jim. Sensing this Jim shook his head and backed out, watching Blair walk towards him and turn off the light.

"A second couch. I …I don't want too big a distance between us tonight," Jim confessed to the quilt and missed the expression on Blair's face. The Sentinel needed time with the Guide nearby after their recent separation. In a way the loft was perfect for them – there were no real barriers to each other in the cunningly designed apartment. It made for an embarrassing lack of privacy sometimes but had also had the effect of forcing them to confront their problems instead of hiding behind physical barriers. Such confrontations were invariably noisy and heated, but had saved their friendship and even their lives more than once.

"Sure, c'mon," Blair led the way to the living room and packed away his work while Jim made a bed on the other couch. He showed Jim the bathroom and then checked the front door again before curling up on his own couch. Jim joined him, wearing the boxers he preferred to sleep in, and draped his robe over the back of the couch. He settled in and shifted around, getting comfortable.

"Good night Chief."

"Good night Jim."

Their voices rang with satisfaction and they fell asleep quickly – Sentinel and Guide reunited.

0o0o0

As usual the angle of sunlight across his face woke Blair. He heard Jim shift on the couch and smiled into the quilt. It was just like his friend to work real hard to clear his caseload and come a day earlier – and at the same time keep it from Blair in case things didn't pan out. Blair cracked his eyes open and froze.

Tommy had gotten up earlier than usual this morning and was dressed in his robe and slippers. He had Blair's wallet in his hands and was looking from the picture Blair carried to Jim and back again. Blair hurriedly scrunched his eyes half closed and pretended to be asleep while watching his son. Raffey was leaning against the base of Jim's couch and every now and then Tommy would bend to show the toy the photo. Jim was lying curled on his side, blankets at his waist showing off his bare chest. He looked peaceful in his sleep, his face lax and unguarded, so different than when he was awake. Tommy put the wallet down and tiptoed forward. Blair held his breath as his son reached tentative fingers out to grasp an edge of the blanket and pull it up – evidently thinking Jim would be cold. Jim didn't even stir.

Tommy turned to glance at his father, who shut his eyes and lay still, then collected Raffey and disappeared. Blair opened his eyes again and tracked his son by sound. He glanced at Jim, who was beginning to move as the blanket raised his temperature, and then lifted his head a little in an effort to hear better. Blair grinned when he realised what was happening in the kitchen. Tommy and Raffey were making toast for a surprise breakfast.

Jim opened his eyes and frowned. Blair was awake, despite appearances. Deep blue eyes twinkled at him and his friend's hands made a shushing gesture under his quilt. Jim grinned at his partner. The tilt to his head gave away that he was tuned into whatever Tommy was doing in the kitchen: probably talking to Raffey. Blair couldn't hear it, but that didn't matter – Jim would tell him later. Jim was getting hot, but didn't push the blanket down – he could smell traces of Tommy on the edges closest to him where the boy had held it to tug the cover up. He heard a triumphant exclamation and immediately feigned sleep again; knowing Blair was doing the same.

Tommy very carefully carried three plates in one at a time and put them on the coffee table. Each plate had a creatively buttered piece of toast. Tommy hurried back out and then walked in very slowly with three cups of water from the tap. He finished his third trip and ran back to get Raffey and the fourth piece of toast – evidently the giraffe preferred his plain, as there was no butter on this one.

Tommy approached his uncle slowly and patted the broad chest beneath its blanket. Jim stirred a little and then sighed, pretending to go back to sleep.

"Uncle Jim!" Tommy whispered, "Wake up, Uncle Jim. I made breakfast."

"Breakfast?" Jim mumbled and opened one eye, "Is it time to get up?"

"Yes," Tommy bounced and a huge smile creased Jim's face – the kid bounced just like his dad! Jim sat up and put out his arms. Tommy scrambled up for a hug, unafraid of the subject of so many in-the-car stories. Jim broke the hug after a moment and called over to the imposter on the other couch.

"Wake up Sandburg! Your son made breakfast!"

Blair faked a mighty snore and burrowed further under the quilt, trying to smother his laughter, which would give the game away.

"Wake up Da, I made toast!" Tommy called, with no response. Jim sighed, hauled his pillow out from behind and hurled it at his Guide. Blair merely snored louder and Jim sighed. Tommy was watching with wide eyes and nervous giggles.

"I think this calls for extreme measures," Jim whispered, "We may have to tickle him. You tickle his chest, I'll take his legs."

Tommy's face lit up and Jim untangled himself from the blankets before getting up. He carried Tommy over to the other couch and deposited the boy on top of the Blair shaped lump under its quilt.

"Ugh!" Blair grunted in a muffled voice. Tommy immediately began tickling through the quilt, with Jim going for the sensitive knees while the boy attacked the ribs. Blair began squirming and yelling for help, laughing hard as he fought to get out from under the quilt. Jim made sure Tommy wasn't accidentally bucked off and otherwise tortured his Guide without mercy.

"Ok, ok I'm awake! Stop it!" Blair gasped and Tommy collapsed on top of him for a hug. Seeing the two of them together for the first time stole Jim's breath. The similarities were marked. Blair smiled at his friend and kissed his son.

"Good morning short stuff. Did you sleep well?" Blair asked and Tommy nodded his head from its place in the crook of Blair's neck, "And do you like your surprise?"

"Yes! Uncle Jim is here!" Tommy smiled and looked up at his uncle, who smiled back and reached down to tousle the boys wild curls.

"I couldn't wait to meet you," Jim rumbled, "Now how about that breakfast?"

They sat on the couch together to eat the toast, which was now cold. Then Jim and Blair made a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs and coffee, while Tommy made more toast. They ate this in the kitchen nook and Jim went on a crumb hunt in the living room while Blair and Tommy cleaned up in the kitchen. Father and son went to have their morning shower while Jim used the en-suite.

Jim met them back in the living room, folding yesterday's clothes into his bag. Tommy showed him where to stow his bag and then went to sit on Blair's lap, looking up with love in his eyes. Jim's breath caught at the sight of father and son in their own little world – for a moment a part of him wondered if he'd ever sat like that with his own father.

"What are we doing today Da?" Tommy asked Blair, breaking into Jim's thoughts and Jim sat on the other couch, raising an eyebrow at Blair.

"What would you like to do Tommy? We have one more day of holiday and then tomorrow we have to pack to go back to Cascade. Can you think of something?" Blair asked and Jim mentally groaned – even he knew better than to ask a question like that. Tommy was bouncing in Blair's lap and Jim grinned involuntarily.

"Fishing! Let's go fishing with Uncle Jim!" Tommy turned to his uncle, who swallowed his surprise, "Da says you like fishing! Let's do that!"

Blair was a little surprised at the altruism Tommy was showing – most three year olds would have demanded a toy store one of those 'dream days' where the parents were dragged hither and yon in an effort to satisfy the child's every wish. Then again – Blair felt his jaw clenching – Tommy wasn't like most three-year-olds. His life so far had encompassed rote expressions, 'perfect' behavior and a wardrobe full of suits. Unfortunately Blair couldn't grant this request – a lack of gear and fishing hole making it impossible.

"We don't have any fishing rods, short stuff," Blair explained gently, and Tommy sighed, leaning back into Blair's chest and gazing up with soulful eyes. Blair bit down on a grin at his patented 'puppy dog' expression – obviously it was a genetic trait. Jim was chuckling a little on his couch. Blair thought for a moment, rubbing Tommy's back. Tommy leant further in and closed his eyes – his hunger for just that simple touch so evident it brought tears to Blair's eyes. He bit his lip and looked at Jim, knowing the Sentinel would pick up on his pain. Jim met his eyes sadly and came to sit on the couch with them, adding his touch to Blair's.

"I know!" Blair exclaimed, forcing his tone just a little, "We can go to the aquarium! We can't catch the fish, but we can see them!"

"Aquarium?" Tommy asked, sitting up and looking from one to the other, "What's that Da?"

"It's like an underwater zoo!" Blair enthused and saw Tommy get his bounce back with relief. Jim shot him an impressed look and Blair bit down on the urge to poke his tongue out at his roommate. He had to set a good example now.

"An underwater zoo! Uncle Jim! Will it have underwater giraffes?" Tommy asked excitedly.

"Giraffes can't swim underwater," Jim replied literally and Tommy frowned. He turned to look at his beloved toy giraffe and sighed a little sadly.

"Raffey better stay here, then," his voice was firm, "I don't want anything bad to happen to him. Oh! I can't swim underwater either! Do I have to stay here too?"

"No," Blair hugged his son close, and Tommy latched on again, one hand in Blair's collar, the other in the front of the dark purple shirt he wore with his jeans and vest.

"It's …a surprise, ok? You can come, don't worry. And so can Raffey, don't you worry," Blair added, and Jim nodded.

"We'll take good care of you both," Jim spoke up and Tommy turned his face out of Blair's neck to look at his uncle. His eyes were a little wet, but he hadn't cried. Separation anxiety, Jim thought to himself and stroked Tommy's sock-clad foot. Tommy eased away a little and Blair smiled at him.

"Love you," Blair crooned and dropped a kiss on his son's cheek. Tommy hugged his Da and kissed him back.

"Love you," he replied and then turned to Jim, throwing his arms around the detective's neck in a wild hug. Jim hugged him back, hearing clearly the muffled 'love you' Tommy whispered under his breath.

"Love you too Tommy," Jim replied and saw Blair's relief at this mutual acceptance of the two important people in his life. Tommy smiled, pulling back a little. Jim glanced at Blair and made a decision.

"Tommy, can Uncle Jim hold you for a minute? Uh…it's like a special hug that I only do for family…for when we meet," Jim smiled, hoping the boy would accept the awkward explanation. Tommy beamed and leaned into Jim, who folded his arms around the body in his arms, half closed his eyes, and turned his face into Tommy's short curls.

Blair sat back and watched in joy as his Sentinel imprinted his son on his senses. Jim had imprinted Blair early in their partnership – the Guide was essential to the Sentinel and therefore the imprinting was instinctual. With a lot of perseverance, begging and outright emotional blackmail Blair had got most of the men and women at Major Crimes imprinted on Jim's senses. Simon was the easiest as Jim had access to him out of hours as well as at work – the three men often spent time together. Joel had been the hardest – the Sentinel's instincts had kept spiking on the smell of explosives and other dangerous compounds.

Jim reaffirmed his imprint of Blair on a regular basis – which was partially why he touched the other man so much, even in public. What the majority of people saw as the senior detective checking his partner for injuries or comforting him after danger was in reality the Sentinel reaffirming his bond to his Guide. At first it made Blair a little uncomfortable – sure he was in touch with his feelings, but not in front of an audience for crying out loud! Now he used the touch to soothe and restore his Sentinel – another weapon in the Guide's arsenal, to be used in the everlasting war against the over-stimulation the city provided for Jim's senses.

Blair smiled. Tommy had gone completely lax in his uncle's grip. Jim was stroking the boy's back, arms, legs and head in a hypnotic pattern as he imprinted touch. Both were breathing deeply – Tommy because he was almost asleep and Jim to imprint smell. Jim dropped a kiss on Tommy's temple – taste – and then let go a little. After one of those hugs Blair always felt ready to take on the world – Tommy would no doubt be in top form too. Jim reached out a hand and Blair moved carefully so he could be included in the embrace. With Tommy between them, held safely and lovingly, Sentinel and Guide reaffirmed their bond. This addition to the tribe would not drive them apart, no matter what lay ahead.

0o0o0

"Ok, short stuff," Blair said as Jim bought their tickets at the aquarium, "There are three very important rules here."

Tommy looked at his father and nodded. Blair was kneeling in front of him to be at eye level, and for a moment Blair reflected that all those years of yoga and tai chi were paying off. Holding conversations at ground level would have made him stiff otherwise.

"Rule number one – you stay with me or Uncle Jim all the time. It would be very easy to get lost in there, so don't run away ok?"

Tommy hadn't shown any desire to separate from his father so far, but Murphy's Law said that the one time Blair didn't repeat this caution was the time Tommy chose to disappear. Tommy nodded and clutched Raffey close – evidently determined his toy wouldn't run away either.

"Rule number two – don't touch the glass. If you touch it or tap it you could upset the fish inside – and we don't want to do that."

Not to mention the fact that they'd probably be evicted – this rule was displayed in large signs all over the entrance and probably further inside too. Tommy wasn't emotionally ready to face the consequences of such a rejection and Blair did not want to go back to Cascade and face the people at Major Crimes after being evicted from the New York Aquarium. Jim would see to it that they found out and their teasing would be merciless.

"Rule number three – have fun and ask lots of questions."

Nothing like encouraging an already impressive natural curiosity. Tommy's grin was wide and he hugged Blair before he stood up. Tommy latched onto Blair's jeans and they walked over to Jim, who handed them each a token.

"Ready to go?" Jim asked and smiled when Tommy bounced in excitement. Blair caught the smile and sighed – Jim was never going to let him hear the end of this inherited trait.

"Ready," Tommy piped in a clear voice and reached out. He tried to latch onto Jim's jeans as well but was prevented by his grip on Raffey.

"How about Da carries Raffey for a while?" Blair offered and took the toy. Tommy latched on and Blair grinned while Jim tried to figure out how to walk while attached to a three-year-old. They went through the entrance, handing over the tokens and then Blair stepped in front of the map. Tommy caught sight of it and turned to Jim.

"Look, Uncle Jim it's a map! We can plan where to go or we can…" Tommy trailed off for a moment and then waved his hands, "Explore!"

"Hmm," Jim rubbed his jaw and Blair smiled down at his excited son, "Let's just explore …is that ok?"

"Yes!" Tommy clapped his hands and moved on to part two of the ritual that had begun at the zoo with his father. He shaded his eyes and looked from left to right.

"Which way brave and fearless leader?" Blair asked on cue and Tommy pointed to the right.

"That way!"

The three of them headed off, Tommy latched onto Blair and Jim's jeans happily. Blair was happy with the arrangement – his son was protected this way. Raffey was tucked firmly under Blair's arm, on the side closest to Tommy so the boy could talk to his toy as they walked.

The corridor Tommy had chosen led them to a ramp that let them walk through a glass tunnel that ran through the middle of one of the fish tanks. Surrounded on all sides by water, Tommy fell silent – gasping now and then as brightly coloured fish zipped past. Blair glanced at Jim and whispered soft instructions under his breath to help deal with the watery light and odd echoes in the chamber, averting a zone out. They stopped frequently to let Tommy gaze at various features inside the tank. There was the obligatory sunken wreck, as well as twisted rock formations and underwater plants.

Other children went by with their parents, moving fairly quickly as the kids pushed for more exciting exhibits. Blair was glad his son was enthralled with what he saw – it was a magical view and Blair was too fascinated to rush through himself. A glance at Jim showed his friend gazing into the tank and smiling a little as bright schools of fish darted and swirled through the water.

Once out of the tunnel they moved on to the individual tanks, where rare fish were kept in specialized environments. Jim and Blair took turns to read the information at each tank to Tommy and answer his questions as best they could. They wandered from place to place slowly, seeing as much or as little as they wanted.

By lunchtime Tommy was all fished out, so Blair found a park with playground equipment for them to picnic in. This time they had sandwiches and then Jim and Blair sat on a bench near the equipment while Tommy played. Raffey was again dragged onto the equipment, and gathered another playmate for its owner.

"So," Blair trailed off uncertainly. He wanted Jim's opinion of his son but was kind of afraid to ask. Jim and Tommy had hit it off – the boy had accepted his uncle happily, but Blair needed to know it was mutual. Jim put his arm on the back of the bench as he watched Raffey and Tommy go down the slide.

"I'm in awe. He's just like you Chief – he has your curiosity and energy. The questions he came up with!" Jim grinned – they'd both had to scramble to come up with halfway reasonable answers; "He's a little solemn, though. I guess he's still missing his mother. And I can see what you meant about the penthouse – no kid lives there. He'll be ok, Chief – we'll get him back to the loft and show him what a real home is like."

Jim traced a soothing circle with his fingertips between Blair's shoulder blades and was rewarded with a lessening of the tension in his friend's body. Blair sighed and then waved when Tommy looked over.

"I…" Blair bit his lip, "I wanted to thank you for this morning. I can't tell you how much it meant to me that you imprinted him like that. He's so hungry for affection and love …it scares me to think what his life was like before. How could Amelia do this to her own baby? How could I have misjudged her so badly?"

"It's not the first time you've let your heart lead your head, Sandburg," Jim tried to say this right, to lay to rest the doubts that plagued the new father once and for all, "You're a Human being – and last time I checked that makes you fallible. Even Shaman Guides have their frailties, so just calm down. We all screw up sometimes."

Blair grinned at Jim and whapped him lightly in the ribs. He could always count on Jim to overcome his own self-contained nature and try to make Blair feel better.

"Thanks for the ringing endorsement," Blair's tone was light, but his eyes reflected his true thoughts and feelings. Jim's answering smile was like the sun coming out after rain. Tommy shouted for attention and Blair obediently watched Raffey go down the slide by himself, followed by Tommy and his new friend.

"He makes friends as quickly as you do," Jim said happily, "And he bounces like you too! Jeez, Chief, I nearly lost it when I saw him do that. Is it genetic do you think?"

"Maybe," Blair laughed, "I wonder what other habits of mine he's inherited?"

"Certainly not your untidy ones – he cleaned up after the toast this morning like a trooper," Jim retorted, and Blair rolled his eyes. Tommy ran past the sandpit, laughing happily as his friend chased him in a game of tag. A few other children joined in and the noise level increased as they squealed and laughed.

"How were you after the tunnel today Jim?" Blair asked, still watching his son play. He'd known Jim was in trouble by the way his body moved. Blair had actually anticipated this problem, and considered how to best allow his Sentinel to experience the aquarium fully, but without any discomfort or having to dial everything lower. In the end he'd got Jim to focus on touch a little, namely Tommy's grip on his leg. The split concentration let Jim relax his hold on the dials so they could find their natural level. It was a technique Blair was trying to get Jim to do automatically. If the Sentinel could regulate his senses consciously, and unconsciously – switching from one to the other, as the situation demanded – then the risk of zone out and overload would lessen. Jim was finding it difficult, but Blair was certain his friend would master the skill with practice.

"Fine," Jim replied softly, "I think I'm getting the hang of this split concentration thing. It was a good idea, Chief."

"You're welcome," Blair replied and looked up at the sky above the park. It was starting to cloud over and he frowned, "How's that weather sense of yours?"

"Hmm," Jim frowned, "We should probably get going."

"Why? What do you sense?" Blair asked excitedly, looking away from his son to focus on Jim. Jim swallowed his smile and answered with a straight face.

"It's going to rain."

"You can sense the moisture in the air?" Blair asked in excitement, bouncing once on the seat and Jim felt the grin split his face.

"Nope – heard the radio on the hotdog cart," he replied smugly and faked a wince when Blair's hand lightly smacked his arm. Blair turned and stood up from the bench.

"Tommy! Time to go!" he called and Tommy pulled a face. Blair bit down on a smile – it was a cute face, even though Tommy was certainly trying for a different effect.

"Aw, do we have to?" Tommy called back from his position on the climbing equipment, "Raffey and I are having fun!"

"Sorry, short stuff. It's going to rain. You wouldn't want Raffey to catch a cold would you?" Blair replied firmly and Tommy shook his head. He climbed down slowly while Blair waited and then walked over to his Da. Blair smiled at him and tousled his curls.

"There are plenty of parks in Cascade too," Blair told him and Tommy perked up a little. He hurried over to the bench where Jim was sitting and asked if Jim knew there were parks in Cascade.

"Yup," Jim got up and grinned down at his nephew, "In fact there's one near the loft. I'll take you there once we're home."

Tommy bounced and latched onto Jim's knee happily. After a few steps Jim reached down and took Tommy's hand instead – finding it easier to walk that way. Blair met his eyes with a knowing grin and they walked out of the park like that. He carried his son across the road and when Tommy laid his head on his shoulder Blair carried him the rest of the way to the car.

The drive home put Tommy to sleep again and Jim carried Blair's pack up to the penthouse while Blair carried Tommy.

"He really does sack right out," Jim said in wonder as Tommy was laid on a couch and covered with Blair's quilt. Raffey was tucked in too and they headed for the kitchen and coffee.

"Yeah," Blair grinned, "He's so angelic when he sleeps."

"He's a good kid, Cheif – he does what he's told even if he has to ask why first. That's pretty rare," Jim put a hand on Blair's shoulder while they waited for the kettle to boil. Blair smiled at Jim.

"I know. I'm glad he asks though – he was pretty much a robot the first day. You should have seen it Jim – it made me so mad how they treated him," Blair's smile vanished and he turned to get the cups down, "He only had one toy at his grandparent's place – a bear I haven't seen him touch once since we got back here. And Raffey – most kids would have run over yelling 'can I have it', but he put his hands in his pockets and walked away without a backwards glance. He cried Jim …just burst right into tears and hugged the stupid toy like it was precious. They're never more than a few feet apart now."

Blair made the coffee, tears pricking his eyes, and Jim stood close in support. He'd already heard this over the phone but Blair needed to vent to a person, not a device so Jim took his coffee quietly and sat in the nook opposite Blair.

"He's not familiar with playing in the bath and the idea that his toys are his to play with …there are only three pictures of him and Amelia in the entire house. There's an album of professional baby photos – you know: Anne Geddes style, but none of mum and baby in the bath, or his first step. It's like he was a doll for her – to be dressed in pretty clothes and shown off as an accomplishment. It kills me to think he had to go through that, but I'm even madder at her. What was she thinking?"

Blair fell silent and sipped his coffee. Jim leaned back in the nook and watched Blair process. His mobile face showed the many emotions and thoughts racing through his head. By the time the coffee was finished Blair had settled down a little.

"C'mon Chief," Jim stood up, putting their cups in the sink. Blair followed Jim out onto the patio. The storm clouds were massing in the sky and the wind was rising, but Blair ignored it in favor of working out what Jim wanted them outside for. Jim moved into the clear space in the middle of the patio and stood with his feet slightly spread, his weight balanced his arms at his sides.

"Assume the position, Blair," Jim grinned and Blair just shook his head, moving to stand in front of Jim, his back to his friend. Blair had started teaching Jim tai chi after Jim had been beaten pretty badly in a fight with a suspect. Blair had told his friend it would ease the muscle aches and keep him fit until Jim was ready to go back to the gym. In reality the controlled movements and hypnotic calm of tai chi was the closest Blair could get Jim to meditation. By the time the visits to the gym started again Blair had managed to get Jim addicted to the mellow feeling tai chi left the Sentinel with and they practiced the form once a week. That had stopped after the fountain – though Blair still performed the form when Jim was out of the loft. This was the first time Jim had indicated he wanted their joint meditation to resume.

"Center yourself Jim. Let go of the dials and find the peace of your inner self," Blair murmured, closing his eyes and doing the same, "Let your breathing relax."

When he knew Jim was ready – Blair was no Sentinel but he was able to tune into Jim to some degree with his normal senses – Blair took a deep breath, heard it echoed from behind and lifted his hands, bent at the wrist in a graceful movement. In seconds the ritual grace and strength of the form enveloped him, soothing the last of his raw emotions. Blair shifted surely through the form, his eyes half closed and breathing slow and deep. He could feel his energy flowing smoothly, could feel the connection that was Jim open and relax for the first time since the fountain and smiled blissfully. He could feel Jim moving in synchronicity with him; their timing flawless as the form progressed.

Their movements slowed and stopped, as they returned to the start, bringing their hands down in the opposite of their first movement. Blair turned to face Jim and they sank to the tiles on the patio. Jim would sit with Blair for a while, while Blair meditated and Jim just absorbed the feeling of wellbeing and peace tai chi left him with. After half an hour Jim got up and slipped inside. Tommy was watching with wide eyes and Jim smiled at him. The hair was tousled all over the place and there was a smudge from the playground on one cheek.

"You and Da danced!" Tommy exclaimed and Jim grinned. He brushed the curls into some sort of order and led the boy to the bathroom.

"Sort of," Jim agreed, and helped Tommy wash his face, "Da's meditating now, so we have to leave him alone for a little while. Want to help me make dinner?"

"Stir?" Tommy asked eagerly, "My favorite!"

Jim guessed he meant stir-fry – trust Blair to get vegetables into his three-year-old and make it seem cool.

"Uncle Jim isn't very good at stir fry," Jim confessed, "How about hamburgers? I'm very good at hamburgers!"

"What's a hamburger?" Tommy asked and Jim almost stumbled on his way to the kitchen. Time to correct a major gap in his nephew's education. Raffey was deposited on the counter, out of the way but close enough to watch as Jim and Tommy made hamburger patties together. The radio was switched on at Tommy's command 'Da and I always cook with the radio on' and Jim rigged an apron for his nephew out of tea towels to protect the bright sweater Tommy had chosen that morning. The patties were piled on a plate and covered with plastic wrap before being put in the fridge. Jim and Tommy were washing their hands when Jim heard a key in the lock. With a frown and a muttered exclamation Jim hustled into the corridor in time to see two immaculately dressed adults step into the foyer and close the door.

"Grandfather!" Tommy exclaimed as the man helped the woman out of her coat and hung it up, followed by his own. She turned a frown on her grandson, who immediately stiffened. Jim watched in sorrow as Tommy turned from a happy three-year-old into a solemn little boy.

"Good afternoon Grandmother," he said in a quiet voice and she gave him a plastic smile.

"Good afternoon Thomas," Mrs. Milton said graciously, "Have you been good?"

"Yes ma'am," Tommy nodded and went to shake his grandfather's hand.

"Who is this, Thomas?" Mr. Milton ran a disapproving glance over Jim's neat jeans, dress shirt and cable knit sweater. Tommy turned to Jim, who winced at the mask on his nephew's face.

"This is Uncle Jim," Tommy replied in a low voice and Milton put out a hand to shake with Jim.

"Jim Ellison," Jim introduced himself, "I was sorry to hear of your loss, sir."

"Yes," Milton grunted and walked past Jim to the living room, "Where is your father, Thomas?"

"Meditating sir," Tommy replied and pointed out to the now darkened patio. Blair could barely be seen out there, an unmoving figure amidst the patio furniture. As they watched the first of the rain began to fall – lightly at first and then heavily.

"Da!" Tommy cried and ran for the patio door, only to be caught by Jim. He knew that shocking Blair out of meditation was bad – even dangerous. Blair had to wake by himself or be woken with extreme gentleness.

"Easy, kiddo. We can't just run out there – we might hurt him. Give Da a minute – maybe the rain will wake him up. If it doesn't I'll go get him," Jim held Tommy close, kneeling down and feeling the tense tremors running through the small body. Sure enough the cold water hitting him broke through to Blair who grimaced, shook his head and got up smoothly, hurrying to the door. Tommy launched himself from Jim's loose hold at his father and was instantly caught up and petted. You didn't need to be a Sentinel to see Tommy was crying and Blair looked at Jim in bewilderment, before spotting the Milton's.

"Mr. and Mrs. Milton! It's ...nice to see you again," Blair managed to smile, "Just let me go change and I'll be right back."

He strode from the room, Tommy in his arms. The Milton's looked disapproving, but sat down, smoothing their tailored clothes to avoid wrinkles. Jim nodded politely and went out too, going to the hall closet to pull dry clothes out for Blair before snagging a towel from the bathroom and heading to Tommy's room. Blair was sitting in the rocking chair with Tommy in his lap. The boy was quiet, but had stopped crying. Blair dropped a kiss on his son's head and stood up, handing Tommy over to Jim and accepting the towel and clothes. He dried off and dressed in the dry clothes quickly, using Tommy's comb to straighten his hair. Tommy watched everything from Jim's arms and held his own out when Blair stepped closer.

"C'mon short stuff," Blair said, feeling the hand in his collar and shirtfront again, "Let's go visit with your grandparents."

Tommy buried his face in Blair's neck and Blair looked at Jim in resignation. The happy boy he'd encouraged for the past few days had been buried again. Jim looked angry – jaw clenched, face still – as he followed Blair back to the living room. The Milton's were sitting in silence, Jim hadn't heard them say a word since they were left in the living room, and Mrs. Milton looked up with a disapproving sniff as Blair sat opposite her, cradling Tommy close like the precious object his son was.

"What can we do for you both?" Blair ignored the sniff and the thought that these two had come on a purely social visit. Better to get this over with so Tommy could be coaxed back to cheerfulness. Mr. Milton glanced at Jim and raised an eyebrow.

"This is your brother?" he asked Blair and Blair smiled gently.

"Yes, this is Jim. We share a place in Cascade together," he replied, "We're going to extend our home so there will be plenty of room for all of us."

"I see," Mr. Milton frowned, "Will you give us your address? I'd like to stay in touch with my grandson."

"Of course," Blair nodded, "Though you'll have to give us warning next time you visit – our job doesn't allow us a regular schedule."

"Mr. Sandburg, we also came to ask if we could take a few of Amelia's photos and books. She prized these particularly and wouldn't have wanted them to be thrown away," Mrs. Milton spoke up and Blair nodded, keeping his temper with difficulty. He wasn't throwing away Amelia, and he'd intended to box up her degrees and photos in the study for her parents. Blair had already moved the pictures of Amelia and Tommy into his duffel, determined his son would at least have that from his mother. He was also storing several single use cameras with lots of pictures of his son at the zoo, the park, and here in the penthouse. Including several compulsory shots of Tommy in the bath. Every kid needed a few of those to be embarrassed over when he got older.

"Please take what you'd like," Blair said gently, "I know Amelia would have wanted you to have them. You know where the study is?"

"Of course," Mrs. Milton stood and walked out of the room with studied grace. Tommy lifted his head out of Blair's neck and looked at Jim.

"Uncle Jim? Are we going to go home with you soon?" Tommy's voice was uncertain and Jim leaned in to tousle his hair. Tommy giggled a little and batted at the tousling hand.

"Sure are, Tommy. Two more nights in New York and then we're on our way home," Jim reassured him, letting Tommy catch his hand and hold it still.

"Two more nights?" Tommy asked Blair, who smiled and held up two fingers.

"That's this many sleeps in your bed," Blair told him careful to distinguish between sleep and the naps Tommy took each afternoon on the couch. Tommy looked over at his grandfather hesitantly.

"Will grandfather be there?" he asked Blair who shook his head. Blair wasn't sure if his son wanted his grandparents in Cascade or not – he was unsure of the cause of Tommy's tears just now and had to be cautious to avoid another outbreak.

"He can come and visit, sometimes," Blair added and Tommy nodded, tucking his head back into Blair's neck and holding on tight again. Blair stroked his back and held on tight. Mrs. Milton came back into the living room and Mr. Milton stood to relieve her of the pile of books she carried. Jim stood too and offered to carry anything else she wanted down to the car. He was led off to a pile of framed photos and a few more books.

Blair stood with Tommy in his arms and walked the Milton's to the front door. Tommy was persuaded to say goodbye to his grandparents and Jim nodded to Blair as he shut the front door behind him.

Blair went to sit back on the couch, looking at the rain and rocking a little. Tommy was still doing his impersonation of a barnacle and Blair wanted to wait until Jim was back to talk this all out. Whatever had caused this reaction had to be discovered and made better – Blair had worked too hard to overcome his son's conditioning to let him slip back now.

Blair heard a key in the lock and looked up when Jim entered the room. Jim sat on the coffee table opposite Blair and frowned at Tommy in worry. Blair took a deep breath and tapped Tommy gently on the head.

"Tommy? What's wrong sweetie?" Blair made his voice warm and gentle. He urged his son to sit up and look at him, smiling into sad eyes, "You can tell Da, I won't be sad. What happened?"

"Uncle Jim was mad at me," Tommy didn't look at Jim, "He said I'd hurt you. I didn't mean to Da! I'm sorry!"

Tears spilled down Tommy's face and Jim gaped in shock. He reached out to pet his nephew gently, and Blair moved his arms so Jim had access while still holding his son.

"Is this when I was meditating?" Blair asked Jim, and he nodded. Tommy had misunderstood his uncle's actions and the stress of his grandparent's sudden visit had compounded the problem. The Milton's weren't exactly people you could process in front of.

"I wasn't mad, Tommy," Jim said, stroking Tommy's arm gently, "When Da meditates it's better not to wake him up suddenly. You didn't know so I just grabbed you. I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry."

"And I'm fine, Tommy," Blair smiled, "You're a good boy and I love you."

"I love you too," Tommy replied, his tears drying again, "Are you going to meditate again?"

"Not tonight, sweetie, but sometimes I will," Blair wondered how to explain meditation to a three year old, and then decided to let it be for now. Tommy nodded and hugged him, then leant over to hug Jim too. Jim returned the hug with relief and Blair smiled at his friend. His stomach growled, and Tommy giggled.

"A monster!" he teased Blair and Blair crossed his eyes at his son, getting more giggles in reward.

"Then you'd better feed me before I eat you!" Blair growled and tickled the boy in his lap. Tommy shrieked and wriggled furiously.

"Help! Uncle Jim!" Tommy laughed and Jim stood up. He swooped down to snatch Tommy up, tucked the child under his arm like a football and ran around the living room, shouting,

"I'll save you!"

Tommy whooped with laughter as Blair got up and chased them, growling loudly and snatching at Tommy's feet when he got close enough to them. They ended up in the kitchen and Tommy was deposited in the sink.

"Uncle Jim!" he squealed, "I don't sit here!"

"Oh, sorry!" Jim replied, picked Tommy up and opened the fridge. Tommy kicked his feet and struggled so Jim put him down.

"Not in there either!" the Sentinel was told indignantly and Jim looked crestfallen. He got the hamburger patties out and closed the fridge. Tommy hugged Jim's legs and smiled up at his uncle.

"That's ok," Tommy comforted, "I'm not mad."

"Oh good," Jim smiled back in relief and Blair shook his head and got the frying pan out to cook the patties in. Tommy hopped up on his stool and helped make the filling for the hamburgers while Jim cooked the patties.

Burgers assembled, they sat in the nook to eat. Tommy rescued Raffey from isolation after dinner while Jim and Blair cleaned up. Blair went to fill the bath for Tommy while Jim read the dragon story that Tommy had chosen at the beginning of the week and heard every single night. The bath was a messy one, with a foam fight started by Jim and ended only when all the foam was decorating the walls floor and fixtures of the bathroom. Blair again massaged Tommy with the sponge and then dried the half-asleep child while Jim cleaned up the bathroom.

When he came out of Tommy's room Jim was making the bed in the master bedroom. Blair stood in the doorway for a moment and then moved to help. He wasn't sleeping in here alone, and he certainly wasn't sleeping in here with Jim. They might love each other, but neither one of them swung that way in bed.

"What are you doing?" Blair asked as he smoothed his side of the bed down. Jim rolled his eyes.

"Making the bed," Jim replied in a 'Duh' tone. Blair rolled his eyes right back.

"I didn't realize the couch was that uncomfortable," Blair sighed and caught the pillow and pillow case tossed to him. He started slipping it on, and smoothing out the wrinkles. Wrinkles in a bed and Ellison did not mix – Blair couldn't decide if it was a hold over from the army or Jim's childhood. William Ellison could give a drill sergeant a run for his money.

"It's not for me," Jim replied, still in the 'Duh' tone. Blair frowned at him. They placed the pillows on the bed and started inserting the doona into a cover.

"I'm not sleeping in here," he told his friend firmly, "And if you're not why are we doing this?"

"'Cause there's not enough couches for the guys to sleep on," Jim rolled his eyes in his best 'gee you're dense' manner, "I'm going to meet them at the airport tonight."

Blair dropped his side of the quilt and gaped at Jim.

"What?" he asked, and Jim gave him that playful 'gotcha' grin that appeared too rarely on the stern face.

"A few of the gang wanted to come and help out. And there's a game on Saturday night. Joel won tickets on the radio. Tommy can come too – he won eight and there'll be seven of us. Can I borrow the car Dad?" Jim smoothed the doona onto the bed and stood with his hands on his hips, watching his Guide fondly.

"Yeah," Blair nodded. He grinned at his partner; "Did they book the flight before or after Joel won the tickets?"

His Guide was not a dumb man.

"Before," Jim grinned back at Blair, "But don't tell them I told you that. You'll ruin their tough guy act."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Blair replied, "I'll call downstairs and see if I can order some more bread or something. We're running low on breakfast foods."

"I'll make up the housekeeper's room," Jim headed out.

0o0o0

Blair opened the door when he heard the muted ding of the elevator. Simon stepped out first, dragging his carry on and a scowl. Daryl stepped out after his father, looking as wasted as Simon, but he grinned when he saw Blair and stepped around his dad to slap hands with his sometime tutor.

"Surprise!" Daryl chortled and Blair grinned widely, "Daryl Banks' removals service has arrived."

"This your apprentice?" Blair asked, indicating Simon with a grin and getting the patented glare in response. Daryl shook his head.

"For a smart guy you sure know how to live dangerously," Daryl grinned and stepped inside. Joel slapped Blair on the shoulder, his red eyes barely open. Even the casual clothes looked tired and Blair put a steadying hand out.

"Hey Joel – there's a bed this way," Blair said immediately and turned to lead the Captain to the housekeeper's room. He turned on the light and the bedside lamp, then switched off the light on his way out, calling a gentle goodnight.

He returned to see Jim show Daryl and Simon the master bedroom and grinned as Jim shut the door quietly. Blair slipped in to check that Tommy was still asleep and spent a moment in awed reflection at his son's side. I helped make this Blair mused, stroking the short curls and he shook his head before heading back to the living room. Jim was already stripped to his boxers and packing up Blair's computer while Rafe and Brown took turns in the bathroom. Blair had changed after Jim left, and so he simply slid into his nest of blankets and settled in.

"Hey Hairboy – nice place," Brown said as he entered, dressed in striped flannel. Blair grinned at his friend and shrugged.

"Almost nice enough to want to stay," Blair teased, "But I'd miss you too much, H."

"Aw isn't that sweet," Rafe cooed, "He'd miss you."

Everyone stared at Rafe's silk pajamas for a moment before Brown recalled he'd been insulted.

"Yeah well he wouldn't miss you, partner," Brown smirked and settled onto his couch. Jim ended the argument before it could begin by switching off the lights and settling onto his couch.

"Goodnight gentlemen," Jim said firmly and ignored the catcalls he got.

Being cops on their day off the gang did the typical thing – got up ridiculously early. Blair had the coffee machine primed and ready to go first thing, and the delivery boy from the nearby bakery was greeted by several very large men in sleepwear, who appropriated his load of bagels, Danishes and donuts gleefully before remembering to tip him well.

"So when do I get to meet my nephew, Sandburg?" Simon asked, peering into the bag he snatched. Blair's hand reached over, closed the bag and pulled it from his grasp.

"When you sit down and behave like a civilized person. Honestly, you'd think I was surrounded by a bunch of cops," Blair complained, "Please guys – he's not ready for a display of the cop to donut phenomenon."

Daryl laughed and Jim whapped the teenager gently on the arm. Jim had a bag of pastry in his hands too, though at a glare from Blair it remained unmolested.

"Don't mock the donuts, son," Jim mock growled earning himself a wide eyed look as Daryl edged closer to Simon. Simon leaned over and whapped Jim on the arm for whapping his son, and then turned to Daryl.

"What he said," Simon nodded and got a round of laughs. Blair shook his head and dumped his bag on the kitchen counter to go check on his son. Sure enough the noise had woken him up and Tommy was sitting up in his bed, curls sleep tousled and looking totally adorable.

"Da? What's the noise for?" Tommy's face lit up when Blair opened the door and Blair snagged his robe before sitting on the bed and holding out his arms for the morning cuddle. Tommy dove in happily and snuggled close. Blair took the opportunity to get the robe on his son and then smooth the curls back from his face.

"Good morning," Blair grinned and got a kiss in reply, "And the noise is a surprise. Would you like to go see?"

"Yeah," Tommy nodded and got off his father to put on his slippers. Raffey was picked up and Blair's sweats gripped firmly. They got to the kitchen and Tommy stopped dead at the sight of all the new people in there. His eyes widened and he sneaked a little closer to Blair as five strangers' bid him good morning. Blair stroked his head gently, and Tommy replied softly. Jim stepped around Joel and got a grin. Tommy let go to give Jim a hug and Jim swung him up in his arms.

"Who is all this?" Tommy asked Blair and Blair reached out to drag Simon forward a little. Tommy frowned and then his face cleared.

"Uncle Simon!" Tommy exclaimed and launched himself from Jim's arms at Simon. Simon caught the boy quickly, though the toy giraffe tumbled to the floor. Blair restrained himself from snatching at his son and picked up the toy instead.

"Hello Tommy," Daryl said, pressing in close to his dad, "I'm Daryl."

"He's your cousin, Tommy," Blair explained and Tommy shook the hand Daryl offered, to Daryl's astonishment. Blair grinned and held a hand out to Daryl, who slapped him a low five. Tommy copied the move and was slapped a low five too, before repeating the gesture to Daryl. Blair introduced Uncle Joel, Uncle Henri and Uncle Brian to his son – who all got a low five in hello – and then encouraged his son to get down from Uncle Simon.

"Breakfast," Blair said briskly, and everyone got moving. Due to sheer numbers they wouldn't fit in the nook, so Jim found a cloth and they set the dining room table. Tommy sat between Simon and Jim, with Blair sitting opposite and ate a donut and a bagel for breakfast, topped off with a large glass of juice. Joel brought up the tickets and Blair acted suitably surprised, agreeing happily to attending the game that night with Tommy. Simon and Blair cleaned the kitchen while the others took turns in the bathrooms.

"I really appreciate this Simon," Blair said as they stacked the last of the dishes in the washer prior to setting it off. Simon straightened and leaned against the counter.

"It's not a big deal, Sandburg," Simon cautioned, "And …you're welcome. I hope you don't mind Daryl came too – Joan threw a fit and said that if I was going to pack a girlfriend back to Cascade then she should at least meet my son first. She had him booked on my flight and dropped at the front door before I could get my head spinning in the right direction. Daryl was a bit suspicious at first, but when we met the guys he settled down. If only I could get Joan to do that."

"That's …unusual," Blair tried to be diplomatic, "And I'm always glad to see Daryl. I'm not embarrassed to be seen with my son – besides I'm hoping they'll like each other so I can gain a sitter."

"Yeah, like I'd let my boy sit for yours. You're a trouble magnet, Sandburg, and your son! Well I met him and two seconds later he was jumping from heights," Simon growled. Blair shook his head in denial and pointed at the taller man. No way was this challenge going unanswered.

"Must be something to do with you, then, cause I never jumped from anything until I met you!" he retorted and Simon rolled his eyes.

"I'm going onto the patio for a coffee and a smoke," was the lofty response. Blair snorted and Simon paused for a moment, "Uh …Jim said you had some papers to this place. I've had a bit of experience with this stuff. If you want I could take a look."

Blair smiled gently, recognizing the gesture for what it was and fishing the folder out of the kitchen drawer he'd put it in. He handed it over without comment and Simon nodded once before heading out for his smoke.

Tommy and Daryl were in the living room watching the Saturday morning cartoons – which had Blair a little worried about the violence content. His son was giggling away though and Blair didn't have the heart to tell him he couldn't watch 'Captain Simian and the Space Monkeys' – most of which went over his son's head as the concept of Star Trek parodies and pop culture references were a little outside his ken. He drew the line at 'Action Man' though, suggesting Tommy show Daryl his room instead. Daryl accepted the offer quickly and was led off. Blair started to fold the blankets left on the couches and Rafe came in, freshly shaved and neatly dressed. The detective pitched in quickly, helping to reduce the mess to order in no time at all.

"Wow, Sandburg. This place is amazing. Some of the art you've got in here is incredible," Brown said as he put the last blanket neatly on the pile. Blair shrugged and looked around.

"Not my style, Brown," Blair sighed, "And it …looks like a museum in here, not a home. The stuff in the loft may not be cutting edge avante guarde, but the place looks like a home, you know?"

"Yeah the loft is comfortable. You sure made some changes for the better when you moved in with Ellison," Brown nodded, and looked out at the patio, "Woah – Captain Banks!"

Blair looked up at the alarmed tone and turned in time to see Simon throw his coffee cup at the low wall. It shattered, sending coffee and porcelain everywhere. Simon was pacing in tight circles now, puffing furiously at his cigar, the folder abandoned on the chair he'd been sitting in. Blair paled when he realised he'd left Amelia's letter in there.

Oh god, Simon read it – he knows what she did, he's going to…I can't believe I was so stupid as to leave that in there…how can I face him now he's read that Blair panicked and whirled, heading for the door. Not even Jim had read the letter – Blair hadn't even told his friend it existed, not wanting to ruin Amelias' good image to his friend, though Jim didn't exactly have a high opinion of her anyway. Practiced hands caught Blair by the shoulder, stopping his headlong flight and turning him to meet Jim's concerned eyes.

"Chief?" Jim asked and Blair groaned, twisting a little to get away. Jim's hands tightened their grip and he shook Blair slightly, "Calm down Chief before Tommy comes out and sees you."

The threat worked and Blair took a deep breath, standing still and forcing his breathing to slow and calm. Seeing the worst was over Jim let go, but didn't back off.

"What happened?" Jim asked in a low voice, "Simon's really worked up out there – and did he throw his coffee mug? What did you do – put salt in it?"

Blair steeled himself for the disgust and disappointment he was sure to see once Jim knew the truth. This would be the straw that broke the camels' back he just knew it.

"Simon asked to see the papers the lawyers gave me. I handed the whole folder over and it still had a letter in it from Amelia. I guess he read that too. It's on the patio – you can read it if you want," Blair said in a low voice. Jim frowned.

"She wrote you a letter? You didn't tell me that," Jim replied and turned to look towards the living room, "Does it explain why she didn't tell you about Tommy?"

Blair nodded and Brown and Joel emerged from the bathrooms. Blair made a decision and squared his shoulders.

"I'm going to shower with Tommy," Blair said firmly, "Read the letter Jim. You …have a right to know."

Blair headed past his friend and went to collect his son. Tommy parted from Daryl reluctantly but was soon happily splashing in the shower and rubbing shampoo through his short curls. Blair took extra time this morning – wanting the initial reactions from Jim out of the way before his friend quietly closed down their friendship. The way Blair saw it not even Naomi wanted to stick around full time, and she was his mother, so why would a friend – even soul mates had their limits right?

Tommy dressed happily, chattering about the game tonight and how Daryl had promised to buy popcorn. Blair smiled and made a few agreeing noises, but otherwise was quiet as he combed Tommy's hair and then his own, pulling his longer locks into a ponytail. Raffey was collected from the counter and Tommy headed out, not really noticing his father's silence. Blair cleaned up the bathroom mechanically and carried all the used towels out to the small launderette in the back of the penthouse. He started a load and then moved back to the main part of the house. Joel intercepted him in the corridor.

"Jim and Simon want a word with you Blair. We were thinking we could go get some boxes for the packing or something and take Tommy with us. Do you think he'd be ok with that?" Joel asked quietly and Blair nodded, his face solemn and resigned. He gave Joel a small smile when Joel looked at him more closely and raised his voice to call his son.

Tommy was happy to lead his cousin and uncles on a box hunting expedition and Blair went to face his former friends. Jim and Simon were still out on the patio, so Blair went to join them, closing the door gently so the insulated glass would sound proof their conversation. Simon and Jim wouldn't look at him and Blair resigned himself to a drawn out confrontation.

"So you know then. I guess this changes things," Blair said, just to get the ball rolling. Jim started at the sound and shot Blair a sheepish look. The Sentinel had been tuned in to his Guide's body and had his hearing turned up. Blair made the little apology gesture that had developed between the two men and looked over at Simon.

Jim crossed the patio in two long strides and grabbed Blair, pulling him close and cutting off any possible words. The larger man was thrumming with tension and Blair's hands fluttered over his chest and back in an attempt to soothe him.

"God, Sandburg! How could you think we'd think less of you because of that …bitches decision!" Simon burst out, "Your worth to us is defined by you, not someone else's…"

Simon ran out of words and added his touch to the embrace, putting his hands on Blair's shoulders. After a moment of tense silence Simon spoke again.

"I'm so sorry I read it – I know I should have stopped, but I thought you meant for me to read it because you gave it to me. Once I started I couldn't just walk away. That kid …he was a trophy baby. A way for her to show how competent she was by having a career and a love life and a child. There's no good way to say this – but thank God you have the kid now. He'll get the life he deserves," Simon squeezed the shoulders he held and let go, turning away and going inside. The rest had to come from Jim.

"Mine," Jim growled when they were alone, "No other to Guide me. You or no one."

Blair wrapped his arms around Jim's chest in response and felt a little of the tension drain away.

"Promise not to leave?" Jim continued his voice uncertain now and Blair nodded into his shoulder.

"If I leave, you'll come too," Blair promised nonsensically, and that seemed to satisfy the man squeezing the air from his lungs. The grip loosened a little and Jim lifted his head to look at Blair.

"I wanted to be sick when I read that…" Jim trailed off miserably, "She must have been blind not to see you Blair. How could she have missed all the things you are?"

"Jim," Blair chuckled, "A lot of that is due to you."

Jim shook his head stubbornly but Blair laid his fingers across Jim's lips, preventing a denial.

"I was selfish when we first met Jim, and blind to a lot of stuff. I still am sometimes, but you've taught me to get past that," Blair smiled gently, "It's true, you know it. Sure I can be giving when it's easy – you showed me how to do that when it's hard."

"You made me human. You kept me sane," Jim countered. Blair gave his friend a wry look and Jim finally let go. They still stood close together, but weren't touching any more. Jim needed to trust his Guide not to abandon him; Blair needed to trust his Sentinel to let go when it was needed.

"So we both improved the other. Maybe we didn't set out to do it, maybe it's just one of those serendipitous events that life likes to throw at us. Let's just be glad it happened, huh?" Blair grinned and Jim grinned back slowly. He nodded and slapped at his partner's shoulder, which Blair easily avoided by swaying gracefully to one side and then back to standing front and center.

"I'm glad you happened Chief. No matter what," Jim vowed and Blair nodded solemnly, "Now let's get inside. You're freezing. I can't believe you came out here without a coat!"

"Hey Jim, if I'm a dad, and you continue acting all parental like this, does this make you the mommy of our family?"

Blair let the swat connect this time.

0o0o0

Blair had printed a packing list from the computer in the study. The list was split into pieces and the six adults, one teenager and a very excited child split to pack away what would be needed in Cascade.

With a bit of thought Blair had decided to take enough from the kitchen to outfit his own back home. Jim petitioned for the four-slice toaster, only to find it was already on the list, right under the coffee machine. All the linen was going and a couple of the rugs. Everything in Tommy's room was going, except the furniture – Blair would buy that in Cascade.

After a lot of persuasion on his part, Blair sold the computer – for a lot less than it was worth – to Joel, who was in the market for one for his kids. The entertainment unit in the living room was deemed to big to go back to Cascade, and was being left to be sold; though some of the videos and music were packed away.

Tommy supervised the packing of his room carefully. Blair and Jim took that job on especially, consulting on each group of toys and packing a few to go back to Cascade in the suitcases, the rest into boxes to be fit into the car.

"Speaking of the car – how did you get everyone back from the airport?" Blair asked Jim as they carefully took the rocking chair apart. That was the only bit of furniture Blair was taking with him and Jim approved wholeheartedly, he'd already read a story to his nephew in that chair and the motion had been very soothing to them both.

"Rafe and Brown took a cab here from the airport with most of the luggage," Jim replied and smiled as Tommy again stuck his head over Blair's shoulder to see what was happening. His friend looked funny with a smaller head peering over one side, and a brightly colored giraffe peering over the other. Tommy was plastered over his father's back and Blair snatched behind him, standing up suddenly, hoisting Tommy up as he did. Tommy squealed and was promptly deposited on the bed.

"This would go quicker if you two would quit playing around," Jim grinned and Blair crossed his eyes at him, ruffling his son's short curls and bending to pick up pieces of the chair to be wrapped in sheets to avoid damage in the move. Jim pulled a face back, which had Tommy laughing hard.

Lunch was eaten at a nearby deli and then Jim took Tommy to the Empire State Building with Daryl while the others packed the car carefully. They had decided to take public transport to the game that night, as parking was sure to be a problem. Blair had also explained to Tommy that Raffey would have to stay home or he'd get lost.

After some negotiation Tommy agreed to do it if Blair would leave the TV on for the giraffe to watch the game from home. A small sacrifice to avoid tears and moping – one Blair was glad to make.

The stadium wasn't too busy yet, though a few of the die-hard fans had shown up four hours before the game. Taggert went to identify himself and collect the tickets and Blair finally got to ask the question that had been bugging him. Tommy was perched comfortably on his hip; hand tucked into his collar like always, and in a prime position to follow the conversation.

"How did Joel end up winning a radio contest?" Blair looked around at his friends; "He doesn't strike me as the type."

"He's not," Simon snorted, "This radio station was asking a sports question and dialing numbers at random. If you answered the phone with the correct answer straight away you won."

"Only they had a glitch, and instead of calling New York numbers only they called Joel direct at his desk in the PD," Jim added, grinning wildly, "So the phone rings and he picks it up and says: 'Taggert', just like we all do. Which also happens to be the answer to this sports question – the name of a player from whatever it was."

"And the next thing he knows he's won eight tickets to the pre-match warm up, a meet the team deal and eight front row seats to tonight's game," Brown chuckled.

"You should have seen his face," Rafe laughed, "I've seen him look better in the middle of disarming a bomb!"

"So I thought that seeing as you're here anyway and these clowns were already booking flights we'd accept the tickets," Joel added that as he came back with a very pale, thin and brightly dressed man in tow. Blair grinned at his friends.

"Just because of that, huh," he said knowingly and no one would meet his eyes – except for Jim who looked virtuous. Joel cleared his throat and introduced the man next to him as the DJ that had been running the competition.

"Ray Farley," Ray's voice was the smooth deep tone that most professional announcers used and his handshake was limp. Beside the cops he looked positively frail and tiny – even Blair was sturdier in comparison.

"This way guys – the team is warming up on center court now. We'll get some photos maybe even get a scrimmage in. After that the station has a guest shot with Joel for a little while – but you're welcome to wander around a bit. The game starts soon after," Ray led the way as he talked, expertly pitching his voice to be heard.

"Guest shot?" Joel asked in trepidation, and Ray nodded.

"We want to tell our listeners how you won the competition – they'll think it's hysterical!" Ray enthused, "And it won't be for long. I taped the original conversation – I just need a bit more and we'll be done!"

"Relax, Joel. You'll be fine," Jim offered his scowling friend.

"Dammit Jim, I'm a bomb disposal expert not a celebrity!" Joel growled and Ray nearly fell over laughing.

"Oh man! Can you say that again for the mike? That is like so cool!" Ray chuckled and Blair grinned at his friend. They hung the celebrity passes Ray handed out around their necks and then walked out to the court. The Nicks were there, running warm-up drills and Ray bounded over to the coach while the men from Cascade stood quietly together and explained the idea of basketball to Tommy.

"They're big, Da," was Tommy's comment and Jim reflected that when you were three everyone was big in comparison. Having big uncles had helped Tommy get used to the idea and he was happy enough to slap low fives with the players when they were introduced.

They moved onto the court and Joel declined the offer to scrimmage with the team – claiming it wasn't his sport.

"Sandburg and Ellison are good though – you should get them out," Joel dobbed his friends in shamelessly and took Tommy from Blair carefully. Tommy was happy enough to be carried by his uncle as long as he could still see his Da. Blair gave Daryl his jacket to hold and grinned over at Jim.

"C'mon, Jim. I'm sure the backboard will stay up this time," Blair teased and Jim rolled his eyes.

"That wasn't my fault, Sandburg," Jim growled, shrugging out of his jacket too, "And you know it."

Simon chuckled and took Jim's coat before standing back to watch his best partnership scrimmage with the Nicks.

They agreed to half court, two on two, and Jim started with the ball. The Nicks had offered to spot them a few points, which Jim had turned down immediately. Blair rolled his eyes and prepared to be sore for the next few days as the Sentinels sense of competition outweighed everything else.

A quick pass from Jim and Blair whirled, guarding the ball with his body as he dribbled it up the court. The player on his back was good – naturally – and had the advantage of height and reach, but Blair was cunning and shot the ball backward between his legs as Jim went past. The basket was blocked, and Jim's man took the ball back to the start easily. He managed to fake Jim out and throw the ball over Blair to his teammate who scored an easy basket, to the cheering of his teammates.

Blair turned and speared Jim with a significant look and Jim grinned. Their conversation on another court came back to him and Jim loosened his shoulders, ready to use the 'special talents' Blair had reminded him of. Tommy was bouncing in Joel's arms and Jim laughed at the sight – like father like son.

Blair took the ball to the halfway mark and stood straight a moment, dribbling the ball beside himself casually and grinning at his man. The guy grinned back with all the cockiness of a pro facing an amateur and Blair drove past him in a flash of movement to make it halfway down the court before his opponent got there. He was all over Blair, who let him push for a moment before straightening again and whipping the ball behind his back to Jim and driving to the right, around the startled pro. Jim sent the ball back almost immediately and Blair dribbled twice as he took two fast strides forward and hooked the ball into the basket in a sweet little move that had his friends and son roaring in approval and even the pro's colleagues giving him a yell of encouragement.

The pros scored the third basket quickly, as if wanting to make a point and Jim and Blair shook hands happily enough before heading off the court. Jim's opponent shouted and threw the ball to Jim who turned smoothly, zeroed in on the basket and sunk the ball with a quiet swish in a standing throw from almost halfway. He winked at the astonished player and went to rejoin his friends as the team went to the change rooms. Fans were streaming in slowly and the men from Cascade went to their seats while Joel was escorted off to his interview with Ray.

Tommy watched everything with wide eyes and constant questions. He sat between Daryl and Blair happily, his legs kicking in excitement and his arms waving all over the place – the perfect picture of a wound up three-year-old. Daryl and Jim were dispatched for popcorn and drinks while Blair took Tommy to the men's room before the game got started.

The cheerleaders were watched with astonishment – Tommy asked why they were dancing like that and Daryl had a hard time not laughing as Blair explained the idea of team spirit. Tommy wanted to know if he should have danced when Da and Uncle Jim played with the big men, and Jim told the boy he had almost been dancing with Uncle Joel so that counted.

The game was a good one – the two teams were evenly matched, so it came down to strategy for the winning baskets. The Nicks scraped a win and the men from Cascade waited a little while before heading out of the stadium.

Simon was not looking forward to the ride home. At the moment Daryl was still hyped by the game, but once they got on the train, his son would turn from energetic teen to surly teen as the late hour caught up with him. Tommy had practically passed out in Blair's arms and Jim was standing protectively over his Guide so the crowd wouldn't jostle the precious cargo.

"Hey, Daryl," Blair called over the noise of the crowd, "I'm taking Tommy home in a taxi. I could use some help – would you mind coming along?"

Simon watched his son puff up proudly at being trusted with helping a friend like that and gave Blair a thank you nod.

"Sure Blair," Daryl smiled and glanced at his dad. Simon was beaming at him proudly, giving the teenager a little thrill. His dad was proud that he was responsible – and Blair had asked him not Detective Ellison. He stepped to Blair's side as they got to the taxi rank and accepted the backpack that Jim was carrying for his friend.

The cab ride was quiet, but Daryl was ready to pay when the cab pulled up and he hurried around to open Blair's door and then usher his friend inside carefully. He got the keys to the penthouse ready and was out of the elevator first, unlocking the door and holding it open for Blair who nodded in thanks and proceeded down the hall to his son's room. Daryl turned the lock but didn't bother with the chain, knowing that Detective Ellison had a key to get back in. Then he hurried down to the living room to turn off the TV and collect Raffey from where the toy had been lovingly propped up on the couch with a snack. Daryl carried the toy down to Tommy's room in time to see Blair tuck the covers around the still sleeping boy. Blair smiled and held the doona up so Daryl could tuck Raffey in and then led the way out of his son's room.

"You'd better eat that snack, or Tommy will think Raffey didn't like it," Blair pointed to the donut and Daryl grinned, taking a huge bite and chewing happily. Blair shook his head and went to brush his teeth.

0o0o0

Blair was first up the next morning. The others had apparently stopped at a bar on the way home and had a few beers. Daryl had gone to bed after the donut and Blair had followed soon after. He put the coffee on and accepted delivery of the morning pastries. He left a note on the counter and took the full car to the rail freight yard.

After half a rainforest of forms and various vague nods in answer to the million and one requirements of the rail freight company – it was a car not a nuclear weapon, though the people accepting his business seemed confused about that – Blair caught a cab back to the penthouse.

He confirmed with Reception that they'd be moving out today and the assessors would be in on Monday morning then rode up quietly in the lift. After the events in Wilkinson Tower he wasn't too fond of elevators, but the idea of climbing the stairs to the fortieth floor was even less appealing. Given the choice Blair used the stairs at the loft and the PD – even though Major Crimes was on the seventh floor. The additional workout on top of his morning – or evening – runs kept him fit.

Tommy plastered himself against Blair's legs the minute he stepped in the door. He was barefoot and still wore his pajamas. Raffey was dropped to the floor and forgotten in the boy's haste to get to his father.

"Tommy? What's wrong?" Blair asked and glanced down the hall. Jim was standing half in half out of the kitchen. He just nodded when Blair noticed him and disappeared. Keeping watch, Blair thought and sat down on the spot, pulling Tommy into his lap and wrapping his jacket around the boy as best he could. Tommy wasn't crying, but his face was pale and strained.

"You left," Tommy mumbled and Blair nodded. He realised that Tommy was dependent – his time with his mother had done a lot of damage – but Blair didn't want to encourage the dependency. In Cascade there would be times when they had to be separate from each other and it would be best if Tommy could learn that it wasn't the end of the world.

"I had to take the car to the train, remember? It's coming to Cascade with us. In fact we're flying to Cascade today," Blair said gently, "And I was coming back. I always will."

"But you didn't take me with you," Tommy protested and Blair smiled. His friends were putting the last of the linen into the spare duffel Simon had brought and making a cheerful noise while they did it.

"I knew you were safe – you were with your uncles and your cousin Daryl. Uncle Jim was here and Raffey," Blair replied, "I bet he looked after you this morning and made breakfast and everything."

"Uh huh," Tommy nodded, "But I didn't want it without you."

"C'mon then," Blair urged his son to get up and then picked up Raffey. He brushed the toy off and handed it to his son, before lifting him onto his hip and walking down the hall. Jim was in the kitchen – obviously listening to their conversation – and he held out the robe and slippers Tommy had refused to wear. Blair put Tommy down and took Raffey back while Jim helped his nephew get dressed. They ate in the nook with Jim – the others had decided not to wait and Blair was glad, he hadn't expected them to.

Tommy and Blair went for their morning shower and Jim used the en-suite while their friends watched TV and relaxed before the flight. The plan was for the luggage to go to the storage area in Reception and everyone else to split up for the day. Daryl and Simon were going to do father son things and Rafe and Brown were planning to head off to some art gallery that they'd heard had an exhibition to do with cops. Taggert was meeting an old friend who'd moved out to New York ten years ago and kept in touch by phone.

Everyone was booked on the same flight back, so Jim and Blair would retrieve the luggage, hand over the keys to the penthouse and meet them all at the airport an hour before the flight was due to board. They'd check in and find a way to exhaust Tommy for the flight home.

They said their goodbye-for-now's and headed off in different directions. Jim and Blair had decided to spend the day with Tommy in the park – there was one in easy adult walking distance and Jim planned on giving his nephew a piggy back ride to it. Jim pranced and made a few horse noises to get the boy giggling – he was still a little quiet – and Blair made Woah noises to get his partner to settle down.

"If he pukes because you jogged him up and down on a full stomach, I don't want to know," Blair warned Sentinel soft and Jim immediately settled into a more staid gait.

The park was built around an artificial lake and Blair cautioned his son away from it before turning the boy loose on the play equipment. It took an hour for Tommy to settle down enough to be interested in the equipment – he kept checking that Blair was still there.

"How bad was it?" Blair asked when he was sure his son couldn't hear them talking. Jim shook his head and sighed.

"He cried a little – and searched the place pretty thoroughly. He wouldn't stay still long enough for me to put the robe on so I just sat in the hall by the door with him. When I heard your heartbeat on the elevator I told him you were coming and left to give you some space. I promised you'd be back, but he was really worked up. When we get him to Cascade we're going to have to work on it," Jim's voice was gentle and Blair nodded ruefully.

"Maybe we can start by having him leave me behind – you could take him to the park and I'll stay at the loft one day. Once he gets used to the idea that good things can happen when he's with someone else we'll try it the other way around. I really didn't think he'd panic like that. I'm sorry you had to go through that Jim," Blair waved to Tommy and looked over at his friend. His face was solemn and Jim shivered a little. The expression was hauntingly similar to Tommy's.

"It's ok Chief, neither one of us was expecting that reaction. The park plan is a good idea. Simon let me take some leave time, so I'll be around while you work on your thesis. I'll be off work until you face the committee, so we have a month to get Tommy used to the idea that separation is ok."

Blair's face lit up at that and he turned to face Jim, reaching out to touch his friend's arm.

"You'd do that for me? Man, that is so cool! Thank you," Blair's face and voice repaid the effort Jim had to go through to get that time approved.

Jim had a hankering for New York pizza, so they cut the morning short to walk through the park to a pizzeria that had been teasing Jim's nose all morning. It was one of those twenty four hour places that sold it by the slice as well as the pan and Tommy ate his first ever slice with gusto. They walked back through the park and Blair carried his son back to the penthouse to wash up and take one last look around. Jim had arranged for a taxi and was loading it as they came off the lift.

"Ready to go home to Cascade, Tommy?" Blair asked and smiled when his son's face lit up.

"Yes! Cascade!" Tommy bounced and got into the taxi without a backwards look. Blair met Jim's involuntary grin with one of his own and they climbed in too. The taxi pulled out and melded with the traffic to take them to the airport and home.

End New York…

0o0o00o0o00o0o00o0o0

…Begin Cascade…


	2. Cascade

**Cascade**

0o0o0

Jim Ellison just knew that whatever was going on in Simon's office was sure to spell bad news for him or his friend. Maybe it was the paranoia that Blair had accused him of only last night kicking in, but right now Jim was hypersensitive to any threat to his partner – no pun intended. The foul weather that lashed the building was a perfect match for Jim's mood of late – unpredictable and unpleasant unless you were prepared. Thank God Blair seemed impervious to it and knew when to duck out of the storm – as it were.

Jim watched his colleagues bend to their work with a diligence that was not unusual, just more obvious as they sought to get out of the line of fire. When Simon blew his top the results were often spectacular – unless you were in the firing line. Whoever this guy visiting Simon was he wasn't the bearer of good news; you didn't need to be a Sentinel to figure _that_ out.

Blair was sitting close to hand – his patient Guide was still being 'mother henned' to within an inch of his life as they struggled to overcome the last of the fountains legacy – and typing reports with a casual air that Jim wished he could achieve. Paperwork – as Blair put it – sucked, and Jim frequently took his frustration out on the recipient of that paperwork – namely the computer. This had sparked rumors that he was computer illiterate. As long as it meant Jim wasn't asked to help anyone else with their computer tasks Jim didn't discourage the idea. Blair knew, but chose not to rat him out in favor of blackmail material.

Jim winced as Simon bellowed for them and stood, hovering over Blair as his Guide sprang up lightly and walked calmly to their boss's office. Blair might not get paid for what he did around the PD, but Simon was his boss none the less. Blair didn't really see it that way, though he treated Simon with the same respect for a superior officer Jim did during work hours. When they were off duty all bets were off and Jim thought Simon enjoyed the feisty comments and sparring he got from Blair. No one in the outfit was a match for the 'Professor' when it came to IQ points, but Blair was always telling them there was more than one kind of smart.

Blair and Simon exchanged that Look as Jim made sure Blair was comfortable and safe and Jim bit down on the impulse to call them on it. He knew he was being over protective, but couldn't shut the impulse off that easily. His Guide had been dead dammit – and Jim had betrayed his trust by withdrawing the protection his Guide had so desperately needed.

Blair forced him to discuss this night after night in an effort to heal the guilt Jim felt and was making some headway – the Shaman was good at what he did – but it was slow going.

Blair soothed and supported Jim as Simon asked about his former girlfriend and Jim got tenser anyway – this kind of visit was never a good thing even if Blair couldn't sense they were leading up to a death announcement. And from Simon's reaction it wasn't just a death involved here – there was something else. Jim was distracted for a moment by Blair's low self-esteem, but they were called back to reality with a few simple words.

Jim hated it when he was right. Blair was curled up in his chair, almost in the fetal position, whispering softly to himself – too quiet even for Jim's hearing. Simon had gone for water and Jim did the only legal thing he could in this situation – put a hand on Blair's shoulder and blocked the strangers' view. Eventually the words got loud enough to be heard and Jim winced at the fear and pain in his best friends' voice. Jim knew the fear came from Blair's perception of him. Jim valued loyalty and had more than once commented on the importance of family and doing the right thing by them. Blair's words confirmed what Jim was thinking.

"I swear … if I'd known I would have followed her to New York. Jim you gotta believe me I didn't abandon them…"

"Easy, Sandburg," Simon broke in before Jim could even start to reply, "We both know you'd have done right by them. She didn't tell you – it's not your fault."

"C'mon Chief," Jim cajoled, "I know how you feel about this kind of thing. I know you'd never abandon your kid."

No way would the gentle man who'd always wondered about his fathers' identity put another child through the same pain. Jim was conscious that even though he didn't actually like his father that much it was a comfort to know who the man who helped create him was. It gave Jim something to compare himself to – not always a good thing until Blair had stepped in and smacked him over the head for being stupid. Blair was great at that – he could look at Jim's angst from the outside and point out another possibility that Jim might have discarded if left to himself.

Not to mention the fact that sometimes it took a smack over the head to get Jim thinking rationally again. He was just happy that someone cared enough about him to do it.

Jim felt a flash of pride as Blair took a deep breath and took control of the situation. In a matter of minutes they were walking out of Simons' office with all the information they'd need and the day off as well.

Jim figured it was time for the Sentinel and the Guide to part ways and was determined to make the split as painless for Blair as possible. Life had given Blair a second chance and Jim was evidently not a part of the package. There was no point in prolonging the pain with his own desires and needs. It was time to put Blair first.

0o0o0

Jim watched Blair go take a shower and leaned back. They were still together. Blair was still his Guide – had never even considered breaking away. Jim shook his head and wondered what he'd done in a previous life to deserve such good fortune. And how the hell had Blair managed to write two different theses at the same time? Jim was constantly amazed at the smarts his Guide had.

True, the future was uncertain, but he could deal with that – it always was to a degree. And he'd meant what he'd said about the job: Blair should worry about that later, because by the time the thesis was finished Jim might have a place for him at the PD.

_He already works so hard there and a lot of the people at the PD consult him – not just the guys in Major Crimes,_ Jim mused as the hot water pipes hummed in the bathroom and the rain lashed the balcony. It was warm in the loft though, and comfortable.

_We always say he's not a cop but he **is** one of us … and the courts already recognize him as a solid witness in police matters. He takes all the crap from the job – the long hours, the injuries, the abuse. He just doesn't get paid. Surely the department can employ him as a consultant or something. That way we can avoid the gun carrying issue and he can stay with me. And if he's a consultant maybe I can get a little more protection for him. At the very least he'll get the same medical benefits._

The water in the bathroom switched off and Jim went to deposit their empty juice containers in the recycling, leaning against the kitchen counter as he continued to mentally rehearse the arguments he would put to Simon. Surely between the two of them they could swing this?

Blair came out and grinned at Jim, who was so deep in thought Blair could step right into his personal space without reaction from the other man. It wasn't a zone out – Jim was muttering under his breath and grimacing – so Blair just stood there and waited patiently for Jim to notice him.

"Chief?" Jim looked puzzled and got the patented Sandburg grin in reply.

"Whatcha doing?" Blair asked, comfortable in Jim's space and Jim grinned back. Things might change – but their friendship would last it out. No one else was allowed this close – it felt right to be standing together like this. Not sexual – they didn't swing that way no matter what the rumors were saying – but kind of like coming home.

"Got lost in the Sandburg Zone," Jim shrugged and received a whap on the arm in reply, "Uh, have you thought about what you want me to tell the guys in the bullpen?"

Blair nodded and stepped back out of Jim's space. Jim felt chilled for a moment but let it go – Blair had needs too and Jim was determined to recognize them.

"I'll e-mail them tonight – it will be on their screens tomorrow," Blair replied, "I'm not ashamed – I didn't do anything wrong here. And they're my friends. They have a right to know what's going on, especially if it means I won't be there any more."

Jim ached at the heartfelt pain in Blairs' voice and put a hand on his friends' shoulder. The muscles were tense despite the hot shower and Jim turned Blair around gently to start a shoulder massage.

"Don't worry about that now – just concentrate on Thomas, ok? Just like we agreed," Jim counseled and felt Blair relax into the massage, sighing in pleasure and drooping a little. Jim patted the shoulders he was rubbing and let go, "I'm gonna make a grocery run. Do you need any travel supplies?"

"Nope," Blair grinned and went to get his laptop. Jim collected his keys and jacket and headed out.

When he got back the laptop was humming on the table and Blair was in his room, packing by the sounds of it. He hurried out to help Jim with the bags and they unpacked in companionable silence. Blair rummaged around the kitchen a little and nodded to himself when done.

"I'll make some chili for dinner," Blair announced, "The e-mail is on the screen if you want to read it."

Jim went and sat down, clearing away the screen saver with a touch.

The e-mail was still up, though it had been sent. It was addressed to everyone in Major Crimes and cc'd to Simon and Jim.

Dear all,

I got some amazing news today that I want to share.

I'm a dad

My son is in New York

My ex died recently and left me custody

I'm heading to New York to go get him and I'll see you all when I get back. Jim or Simon will pass on any details. (Thanks guys)

Hairboy.

A short and to the point statement that left out so much – namely how he felt and what he was going to do next.

"Did things go ok with your committee, Chief?" Jim closed the program and went to lean on the counter opposite Blair. He loved watching his roommate cook – the guy was a whirlwind yet graceful with it. For all the teasing Jim gave about Blair's ability to make a mess, Jim didn't mind that much. After he'd evicted his best friend from the loft Jim had come to realize how much he hated tidiness when it meant that Blair was gone.

"Yep," Blair nodded, "They made a few 'it's about time' noises, but we're ready to go at the end of the semester. I'll take the laptop with me and work on the first few chapters at night once the kid is in bed."

"The kid? Seems a little impersonal Chief," Jim prodded, trying to get his friend to open up. For all the talking Blair did he rarely spoke about himself. Blair finished chopping and started pulling out the chili pot. When Jim was being prodded to talk they usually ended up on the couch or the balcony. Jim had found if you wanted Blair to talk it was best to approach him in the kitchen, while he was cooking. He had something to occupy his hands and eyes and at the end Jim got to eat a great meal. Pavlov response? Maybe, but it worked and Jim wasn't about to mess with it.

"I can't seem to get a handle on him. I mean, he's my son – but I don't have any reference for him. You know how we went to meet Megan at the airport that time? Well I kind of had a mental image of her already – because I knew she was a cop and a woman and I'd met a few before. But this is a child I never knew existed. And while I know what I look like and I know what Amelia looked like I can't imagine what a child the two of us made would look like," Blair sighed, "And it bothers me, you know? I never really considered that I might have fathered someone. We were always careful during sex – never unprotected, no accidents and she was on the pill. I mean, I saw her take the damn stuff every morning while we lived together!"

"No birth control is a hundred percent," Jim reminded him, and held up a hand when Blair shot him a hard look, "I'm not criticizing you Chief – I know you take precautions. I know you'd never abandon a baby, even if you broke up with the mother. I know this, ok? It's like a law of nature as far as I'm concerned. If you say you were careful then you were. Maybe you should insist on a paternity test. Maybe the kid belongs to someone else and she named you as the father so you wouldn't know she'd been…"

"Cheating?" Blair's lips twisted in a bitter smile, "No. I don't want to do that. If she's named me as the father then I accept that and my responsibilities. If the test was positive I'd feel guilty for doubting and if it were negative I'd feel betrayed – so we'll leave it be. He was given my name and I'll welcome him into our family, brother. I hope you can too."

"My nephew is welcome, Chief," Jim grinned and got a grin back. He was glad he'd brought the test up – it would have nagged at them both otherwise, and Blair needed the opportunity to vent some of his doubts. Jim pushed off from the counter. Blair was making leftovers for him – there was no way they'd eat that whole pot tonight, even if Simon did come over. This was yet another example of the Guide looking after the Sentinel. Jim wondered if Blair's son would have Guide traits too. After all, Jim's abilities were genetic – it made sense that Blair's would be too.

"I'm going to shower," Jim said, still thinking about it and Blair nodded in reply.

0o0o0

Jim pulled the truck into his assigned space at the garage and turned off the engine. Blair had been practically vibrating this morning. Jim had hated sending his Guide off like that, but knew things wouldn't settle down until Blair and Thomas met and started a relationship together. Jim hoped the kid was nice – not some whiny brat spoilt rotten by a rich mother. Blair wasn't rich or materialistic and that could be quite a culture shock to some people.

The Detective locked the truck and headed for his desk. The lift was crowded as usual, and the building resounded with the echoes of hundreds of voices as the men and women of the PD went about their business. Jim acknowledged the sound and let it go like Blair had taught him, relegating it to a background hum the way he did every morning. It had become second nature now, and he no longer needed to be guided through the process. In the beginning the noise had triggered headaches to be suffered through until Blair could get to the station to spend time with Jim. Blair had worked hard to get things down to a manageable level for Jim – he had also suffered through the headaches by association. It had taken Jim a year to gain the confidence and fine level of control he needed to do this by himself. He still had troubles when he was tired or hurt, but Blair was usually around then and Jim simply glommed his senses onto his Guide instead.

The bullpen was full when Jim arrived and he hung his jacket up as per usual – aware of the Blair shaped space that was empty beside him. He looked up as Simon opened the door to his office and nodded at his boss – yes Blair had got off ok, and he'd be in touch. Simon nodded back and looked around at his team.

"Ok, everyone. My office," he growled and Jim headed in with the others. It wasn't often that Simon had everyone in there – the weekly staff meeting was held in the conference room on this floor, or in the break room at a pinch. Rhonda got up too and came in with the rest of them, closing the blinds at Simon's request.

"Did the Professor get off ok?" Simon asked Jim for the benefit of the others and Jim found himself the center of attention. He let his senses out a little to monitor his colleagues and nodded.

"He's nervous as hell, but he'll be ok. He's going to leave a contact number on the machine at home," Jim confirmed and felt people around him relax a little.

"Good," Simon replied, "Sandburg gave me permission to pass this on to you all and I want us to present a unified face to the rest of the PD. Some of our fellow officers can be a pain in the backside at times and the last thing Sandburg needs is for us to be at cross purposes with him."

"So just tell us already," Rhonda murmured, and Jim concealed a grin. No one in Major Crimes suffered fools gladly, but Rhonda had the lowest tolerance for rhetoric of them all. She was apparently impervious to the glares her boss sent her, and in general gave as good as she got. Blair worshipped her avidly, flirted with her shamelessly and respected the hell out of her.

"Sandburg is going to defend his thesis at the end of the semester," Simon started. Jim watched his colleagues grin with pride and relaxed even more. No one was condemning Blair here – his colleagues were proud not ashamed.

"He's going to be out of a job, then," Taggert frowned. Technically not a member of Major Crimes he was often in the bullpen and included in Simon's invitation.

"That's right," Simon nodded, "So I want us to find him one. Hell, I want him paid for doing the job he already does. We're going to need to write a proposal for the Chief and the Commissioner, so I'm going to need you to pull all your files that have evidence of Sandburg's direct and indirect involvement in your cases since he started riding along with Ellison four years ago."

"What about Kincaid?" Taggert spoke up, "He wasn't riding along then."

"He was filling out the paperwork, though," Jim spoke up and grinned, "Maybe we should have taken that as an omen."

He got a few chuckles for his effort at humor – Blair was the departments trouble magnet, an appellation the young man vehemently protested. He was also known as their mascot – a nickname Jim objected to, often violently.

"When do you want this by?" Brown asked, and leaned forward.

"Ellison and I will work on the proposal together, so we'll need it as soon as possible," Simon replied and everyone got up, heading for the door briskly, not bothering to wait for the official dismissal. Jim waited until they were alone and looked over at his friend and commanding officer.

"You read my mind," he told Simon who shrugged.

"Hell Jim, the minute Sandburg said he still wanted to work with you in any way he could I knew he wouldn't object to the full time job. And maybe we can swing some teaching time at the Academy for him as well," Simon shrugged, "We'll leave that up to Sandburg ok? I know the Professor loves teaching."

"You don't think he'd mind teaching cops?" Jim asked curiously. He knew that Blair would teach just about anyone who asked him to, and the idea of teaching cops would appeal to his roommate. Blair loved a challenge.

"I know he wouldn't," Simon stated it like a fact and Jim grinned. The gruff captain had the measure of his civilian observer all right. Jim headed out to dig through his own files.

The message light was flashing when Jim got home and he closed the door quickly before rushing to retrieve the message. It rewound with its usual squeal of feedback and Jim winced a little before catching hold of the dial again. With Blair away this week Jim was pretty much on desk duty – Simon had made it clear he wasn't assigning any new cases to Jim until he was sure the detective could concentrate on his work. The mini zone Jim had drifted into to escape the dust he was stirring up in records hadn't helped. Connor had been there to slap him out of it – literally – and then mothered him all the way to the bullpen. Simon had noticed and confined Jim to the bullpen for the week.

The machine beeped, drawing Jim back to the here and now and he hit the play button gently.

"Hey Jim," Blair's voice was overlaid with the usual sounds of the airport – planes, people and p.a. systems, "I made it in one piece. I'm on my way to the lawyers and I'll call you again tomorrow with the number I can be reached at. Take care of yourself, big guy."

The message ended and Jim hit save absently before turning to the door again. He locked up, hung up his coat and gun, then headed for the kitchen. Halfway there he froze and turned to look at the coat rack. His gun hung in its holster, partially covered by his jacket. His gun. In plain sight for anyone to see or touch. When it had been the two of them there was no problem – Sandburg wasn't going to start messing with the weapon, Jim knew that. Children were not really on the guest list either – their friends with children didn't bring the kids to visit, Jim and Blair usually went to them. But Blair was bringing his son to live here now. That meant curious fingers and temptation. Jim had heard plenty of horror stories about cops' kids dying when they found their parents' gun.

This wasn't the only weapon in the loft either. Jim had one upstairs in his bedside table. There was also the ammunition and his weapon maintenance kit. Not to mention the one he sometimes wore in the ankle holster. Jim headed for the phone to call the weapons experts at the precinct. He'd order a lock box or something that he could install in the loft to secure these things in. Blair hated guns, but they'd have to explain to Thomas why there was one in the house and set up some rules about them. Maybe Jim should call Taggert and Brown and find out what they told their kids. The detective and the captain could probably help him choose the safest containers too. Dinner could wait a little longer.

0o0o0

Halfway through the morning paperwork marathon Jim was resigned to running, a call for back up came in from Rafe and Brown.

The pair was working an arson case – various wealthy real estate owners were being threatened: pay up or see your property torched. There were several good forensic leads on the case and Rafe had an informant on the streets that had heard some interesting rumors. They had gone to meet said informant that morning and Jim guessed that things had just escalated from there. A figure with long hair scrambled into the truck beside Jim, and he said,

"Seatbelt Chief," absently as he peeled out of the garage and hit the lights and sirens. It was two blocks before he realised what he'd done and he spared the glaring Aussie an apologetic glance.

"Sorry, Conner," Jim chuckled, "I guess it's habit. I caught the long hair and the bright clothes and that was all."

"Right," Conner sniffed, "I'm much better looking than Sandy, and I'm certainly not putting up with any of your crap Ellison, so don't you forget it."

"Right," Jim echoed and took the corner on two wheels. The address from dispatch had been in the high-rise apartment area of Cascade. This area was low rent, but not quite at the slum stage. Crime was slowly on the rise despite the PD's best efforts. There was call from several sectors of the community to make the apartments controlled rent, but so far the owners were resisting the pressure. Quite a few people suspected that the owners had something else in mind for the properties and needed to get rid of their tenants first. Blair was tracking the stories through the media for Jim, just in case the Sentinel needed to get involved later. There was more than one way to protect the tribe and his Shaman was always showing him that.

Jim pulled up behind Rafe and Brown's empty unit and got out, walking around the truck to put a hand on Connors arm. She looked up, startled, but remained silent when she realised he was anchoring himself on her. Jim sent his hearing out carefully, feeling the pulse of blood through Connors arm and using it to anchor himself. If Blair was there, he wouldn't need the contact for a simple task, but Blair wasn't there and that was the problem. The building in front of them had once been impressive and stately – now it was just shabby and dirty. Jim focussed on each floor carefully, sensing for familiar voices – or failing those, familiar heartbeats.

"Fourth floor west," Jim said as he located the two cops, "Sounds like they've got the guy cornered. He's threatening to set off an incendiary device. Connor, get Taggert down here, and the fire brigade."

Jim was running into the building without a second thought, and Connor took a moment to gape at him before pulling out her phone and following. She caught up to him in a few quick paces, but didn't speak to him until they were on the floor Jim had heard the voices.

"How the hell does Sandy put up with you?" she growled as she pulled her gun, "Dispatch has them on the way and I've got the uniforms evacuating the other floors."

They were in the stairwell together and Jim glanced back at her. She was tucked against the wall, gun at the ready, game face on. He was glad she was there to back him up, though he wouldn't say that to her. They had a kind of friendly rivalry going on and Jim enjoyed the sparring too much.

"Thanks," he replied and stuck his head out cautiously, "And I don't know why he puts up with me."

"Sandy loves you Ellison," Conner replied staunchly, "I know that _because_ he puts up with you and I won't hear you say otherwise."

"Conner – focus here ok?" Jim grinned at her and she growled at him. He rolled his eyes and put a hand on her arm again. She slid a little closer and waited while he sent his hearing further out to monitor the situation.

"Well?" she asked when he dropped her arm and he shook his head.

"He's not budging and if we rush him, he'll just panic and hit the trigger," Jim frowned. Megan leaned around for a look at the corridor. She couldn't hear anyone, but if Jim said he could then he could. There was a fire extinguisher in the hall and a fire hose further down.

"Hey do you know if the extinguisher will work?" Megan pointed with her chin and Jim grimaced.

"I'm a cop, not a fire Marshall," he protested and she got ready to give him the length of her tongue, "And no, my senses won't tell me that either. Sandburg might have been able to figure out a way for me to tell, but it would require more Guide expertise than you have."

As soon as he said it he realised how insulting that comment was, but Conner just sighed and nodded. He squeezed her wrist and tiptoed along the corridor to silently retrieve the extinguisher for her. She hefted it experimentally and then shook her head. He'd felt how light it was, so her next words weren't a surprise.

"Empty," she told him and put the cylinder out of the way.

"The hose is connected though," Jim told her and grinned, "I can smell the water."

Megan gaped at him and then grinned.

"So if we hit him with water, and not a bullet will the device trigger? Can you tell what he has?" she pressed and Jim again anchored himself to her arm. After a few minutes he swayed and she shoved him up against the wall, twisting her hands in his shirt to keep him upright and hissing his name in a low voice. His face regained coherency and he shook his head, standing up under his own power.

"We still need a working fire extinguisher," Jim replied, his eyes a little cloudy and unfocussed. Conner gave him a glare and stepped back.

"I'll check the floors under us. You go up and check there. No more sense stuff until we're back together ok? Sandy will kill me if anything happens to you," she ordered and headed out. Jim went up, hearing the uniforms evacuate everyone by the fire escapes on the other side of the building so as not to risk alerting the arsonist something was up. Jim searched for a few minutes before finding an extinguisher that was full and operational and hurried back to find Conner waiting for him.

"The only good one out of five," she told him, "I definitely want a word with the fire guys after this."

Jim nodded, just as angry. You shouldn't have to pay a fancy rent to live in a building with working fire extinguishers – he hated it when there was one law for the rich and one for the rest. He led the way down the corridor slowly. Megan breathed in sharply when she heard their colleagues, letting Jim know they were within normal hearing distance. He put his extinguisher down and left Megan to monitor the situation while he went back for the hose. They set up and got ready to intervene if Rafe and Brown were unable to talk the guy down.

Rafes voice rose urgently and Jim shook his head, stepped around the corner and triggered the extinguisher. He coated the device on the floor while Conner backed him up with the hose, directing the strong stream of water at the arsonist chest and pushing him sideways, away from the trigger. Rafe and Brown dove forward, adding their bodies to the waters' impact and knocking the arsonist down to the floor. Jim continued with the foam until the extinguisher was empty and tossed it aside, grabbing Conners' from where it had been left and waiting anxiously.

Rafe had a firm grip on one arm and Brown was pinning the guys' legs while Megan continued with the hose. In a matter of minutes they had the guy in cuffs, the hose off and the bomb squad on their way up. Joel barged past them as they walked down the corridor without so much as a hello, and Jim grinned at his dripping colleagues.

"Good job guys," he complimented them and got out of their way. Megan was almost as wet as Brown and Rafe because the hose had leaked the minute she twisted the nozzle.

"Thanks Jim," Conner growled and plastered her wet self against him in a bear hug.

Brown held the prisoner and Rafe plastered himself to Jim's back, making sure their dry colleague got full benefit of the hug. Jim wiggled unavailingly and came out of the hug damp. They headed out of the building, Jim grumbling softly the whole way.

0o0o0

Taggert had recommended a small safe for Jim's house and Jim had ordered one through the PD. In the meantime he would store his spare weapons at the PD lockup, and use a lock box for his primary weapon at home.

Jim stowed the weapon carefully and put the box up on top of the fridge – out of sight from the casual observer. Then he hurried over to the blinking message machine and hit the playback button. Simon had dragged Jim to a restaurant for dinner, mumbling about promises and proper eating habits. Blair must have been bending Simon's ear after their last voluntary separation – Alex didn't count – when Jim had binged on Wonder Burger and pizza deliveries, sending his senses off balance. Jim really had known better but was too busy to fuss with a healthy meal as several of his active cases came to a head at once. The exhaustion and absence of his Guide hadn't helped.

The machine beeped its readiness and Jim hit the playback button eagerly. A childish laugh rang out and Jim started, leaning closer to the speaker.

"I can hear you too Da!"

"Yes, Uncle Jim and I made the message together. Tell Uncle Jim what we practiced, Tommy," Blair sounded happy on the surface, though a fine thread of tension ran through his voice.

"Hello Uncle Jim!" the child recited dutifully, "You can call me and Da on…"

Jim scrabbled for pen and paper and got the number down. He hit the save button for that message and then glanced at the clock before dialing.

"It's me," he smiled when he heard the familiar voice and some of the tension in his shoulders eased, "Is it too late to call?"

"Hello Jim. No it's not too late – we were just reading a story before bed," Blair's voice crackled over the line and Jim grinned, turning to go and sit on the couch.

"Can I talk to him?"

"Sure you can, hang on a moment. Tommy, do you want to talk to Uncle Jim?"

Blair's voice faded as he handed the phone over and Jim heard him put the book to one side, smiling as his nephew said hello hesitantly. His answers to Jims' questions were soft and hesitant until Jim lucked into asking about the books he'd bought with his father. Then Tommy was talking a mile a minute, only winding down when a huge yawn sounded over the line. There was a fumbling sound on the line, and then Jim could hear sheets rustle a little before Blair's voice came back.

"Jim? I'll call you back, ok," Blair said quietly, "He's almost asleep."

"I'll be here," Jim rumbled comfortingly and Blair hung up. He settled onto the couch and turned the TV on, finding a game to stare at for a little while until his friend could call him back. He tried not to anticipate trouble – tried not to imagine that Blair couldn't take Tommy away from New York because the boy was happy there. Jim fretted over the impact the move would have on a boy who had already lost his mother in a car crash. Maybe Blair would have to wait a few months before taking his son away from his mothers' family. The phone rang and Jim stared at it for a moment, before picking the handset up and thumbing the button.

"Ellison," he managed to keep his voice even and switched the TV off with the remote.

"It's me, Jim," Blair said softly, his voice sad. Jim's stomach tightened – it was bad news he knew it!

"God, I can't wait to get him home," Blair sighed over the line and Jim gripped the phone tighter.

"Really? You're not staying in New York?" the question slipped out before he knew it and heard Blair gasp in reply, "I thought that maybe he'd have to stay in New York for a while. Less trauma than leaving his family so soon after he lost his mom," Jim rushed on, trying to explain and Blair's bitter laugh silenced him as if he'd been slapped.

"Family?" the tone grated like gravel and glass, "Oh you mean the three adults who made him a doll and a robot? Who **_brainwashed_** him into giving perfect rote responses to every question? Yeah, I want him to hang around them longer – he's still human!"

"Chief," Jim said softly, and the pain in his voice calmed Blair down. The Sentinel heard his Guide take a ragged breath and run a hand through long curls. Jim could imagine his friend slumped on a couch somewhere, probably staring out a window like Jim was as he tried to explain what he meant over the phone.

"Try it again, Chief. He didn't sound like a robot tonight, he sounded like you actually, the way he ran his mouth off," Jim grinned at the thought and Blair chuckled reluctantly. He sighed again and Jim heard him shift. _He's pacing,_ Jim smiled, knowing Blair very well.

"Ok," Blair took a deep breath, "I went to the Miltons' place last night for dinner. It was supposed to be my first meeting with Tommy. In the back of my mind I figured that I'd spend some time with Tommy and then leave him with his grandparents again. I didn't want to drag him away from familiar faces. I'm staying at Amelias' place – man you wouldn't believe how cold it is. There's no sign that a kid lives here – I couldn't even find play clothes for him. I thought that maybe his grandparents had them but... This place is so neat, Jim, you'd love it. Amelia's got all this stuff here, and personal things too, but the place is a showcase, not a home…"

"Like the loft used to be," Jim broke in, "Before you invaded it and made it a home, not just some place to sleep."

"Jim," Blairs' tone was soft and surprised. Jim twitched a small smile that his friend couldn't see and waited for Blair to continue.

"Anyway," Blair sounded a bit uncertain, "I didn't want him coming back here and worrying about where his mother was, so … so I just went y'know?"

"Breathe, Sandburg," Jim let his affection creep into his tone, "You went to visit, expecting to go home alone. I'm guessing you didn't – what happened?"

"Mrs. Milton calls this maid –you wouldn't believe these people Jim, the way they live – and tells her to go get Tommy. So this girl disappears and comes back in with this three-year-old kid in a **_suit_**. He's holding her hand and looks so **_sad_** Jim, but I figure he's missing his mother so I let it go. He doesn't even smile at his grandparents," Blairs' voice broke a little and Jim shifted uneasily, hating where this was going. He hadn't thought they made suits for three-year-olds, let alone the idea of dressing a child like that…

"So Mr. Milton says: 'Thomas your father has come. Remember what I told you boy,' and waved a hand at me like I'm a dog or something, and I get down to be at the same level as him. He walks over with such a sad little face, Jim and he says 'Pleased to meet you sir,' and shakes my hand. He shook my hand! I mean I wasn't expecting him to hug me or anything, but this …Jim it was awful!"

Blair was breathing raggedly now, and Jim wasn't much better. Tears were stinging his eyes at the pain in the description of the first ever meeting between father and son. Blair was right; it wasn't natural for a three-year-old to act like that.

"So the maid comes back and announces dinner and Tommy gets **_dismissed_** like some kind of pet. He turns around and walks over to the maid with his hands at his side, and when he gets there, God Jim…he puts his little hand up in the air near hers and just waits. He didn't take her hand, and she didn't reach out for him until he was standing next to her with his hand held up in the air like some kind of…"

Blair was crying now, and Jim was right behind him, tears streaming down his face. He knew how bad it was to live in a house were you were only valuable for your good behavior. At least his mother had been there while he and Steven were still babies. Steven had been eight when she left, and old enough to know what mother love felt like. They'd at least had that much to hold onto.

"Oh, Chief, God Blair. I…" Jim choked and swiped at his face, "How could they do that?"

"I don't know Jim. I didn't ask. I told them we were both leaving and found him and his room. He had a teddy bear, some more of the suits and a brush and comb. I took everything but the suits and brought him home," Blairs' voice was thick with tears and stress, but he sounded a little calmer, "I told him he was coming to Cascade with me this morning and his face lit up. He's asked a million questions about you, Jim. It's why I let him leave the message – I wanted him to connect to another normal human being, even if you were just a recording this morning."

Jim's mind reeled. Blair thought he was normal? With five heightened senses, a spirit guide and the ability to call his partner back from the grave?

"I'm normal?" Jim blurted and heard Blair's confusion. For a horrible moment his gut twisted, thinking Blair was going to retract the statement.

"Of course you are," Blair sounded confused; "There's nothing unnatural about you. Jim, man, please don't tell me I make you feel like a freak! Aw man, I never meant to do that! I know I can be pretty persistent about the testing and everything, but the more data I have the better I can help you. I never wanted you to feel less than human…"

"Sandburg!" Jim shouted over the panicked pleas and Blair froze into silence. Jim could hear his heart beating fast and hard and sighed.

"Chief, that has got to be the biggest compliment I've ever had. You think I'm normal – even though you know what I can do and even after all the times I've had some weird Sentinel reaction or screamed you out of my space. Even after … the Temple. I can't tell you what that means to me. And you don't even think it's a big deal, do you? You never thought twice about all this. I'm just a normal guy with heightened senses," Jim trailed off and shook his head.

"Well, yeah," Blair said in a matter of fact tone, and Jim laughed.

"God I love the way your mind works," he said and heard Blair calm down a little.

"I love you too, Jim," Blairs' voice was warm and comforting and Jim basked in it for a moment.

"So today you took him shopping," Jim prompted and heard Blair sit down on the couch.

"Yeah. Amelia has this **_car_** man, I'm definitely keeping it," his voice was a little lighter now, "As much as I love the Volvo she has to go. This car is new and reliable. Can you maybe get the Volvo valued for me? Or it can wait till next week. Don't worry, I'll do it next week," Blair answered his own question and Jim laughed.

"I'll value the Volvo," he promised, "What happens next week?"

"We'll be in Cascade on Sunday night – I've already booked the tickets," Blair replied, "I need to hang around to do some legal stuff, and I thought Tommy and I could see some tourist sites while we're here – you know, get to know each other a little before coming home. I've kind of made a holiday out of it for him – he needs to just do some fun normal stuff."

"That's great, Chief," Jim managed to say calmly, "Hey, I've got the weekend off – I'll fly down on Friday night and help you pack or something. If you give me your flight details we can come home together."

"Cool!"

Jim could imagine the bounce that accompanied that statement and grinned. His Guide was coming home soon; Jim could hang on until then. For now he'd have to make do with nightly phone calls and dragging information from his Guide – Blair always found it easier to misdirect Jim over the phone.

"What happened when you went shopping today, Chief?" Jim prodded and heard Blair sigh.

"Well, my emergency credit card got a workout," Blair evaded, "Good thing I'm selling the Volvo, huh?"

"And what else?" Jim ignored the attempted sidetrack. He could be as stubborn as the next man could, more so when his friend was involved.

"We picked out some clothes. 'Tommy' stuff he called it. I've been pretty much acting the clown, Jim, trying to get him to smile a bit. Anyway we got him a whole heap of stuff, nothing like the suits, and I took him to the parents' room with some of it so he could wear what we bought. I had to put him into trousers, patents and a dress shirt this morning Jim. Thank God he has normal pajamas, even if they do look like someone ironed them. Anyway I got him dressed in his new stuff and a pair of sneakers in the parents room at the mall and sent him to take a look while I folded up the other stuff. Have you ever been in a parent's room Jim? This one had a solid mirror on the back wall – pretty grimy from all the hand marks from other kids. I looked up and he's standing in front of his reflection, crying his eyes out because he looks like the other kids do. Damn near killed me," Blair's voice roughened again, and he had to clear his throat a few times, "I just held him and rocked. When he calmed down we got the hell out of there."

"Poor kid," Jim growled, "Man, if I ever get near his grandparents…"

"Get in line," Blair sighed, "I'm so mad, but at the same time I don't want to alienate the only family he had from his mother. I'm pretty confused, I'll tell you that."

"Normal state of being for you, isn't it?" Jim teased, trying to get Blair's mood to lift a little.

"That's panic and dizziness, Jim," Blair retorted, "Hey, how was your day?"

"Pretty boring for the most part," Jim sighed, and then told his Guide about the arsonist and the fire extinguishers. He hammed it up a bit and had Blair laughing, especially over the hug at the end.

"Simon took me out to dinner at this Greek place after work. It was pretty good – we should try it with Tommy sometime," Jim suggested, "Did you leave your number with Simon too?"

"Tommy did. He says Uncle Simon has a grr voice," Blair reported and Jim chuckled, "Any sense troubles?"

"Nah, I'm ok Chief. I'm not using them much at the moment anyway," Jim yawned and then froze – he'd almost said why.

"As long as you're careful man," Blair sounded concerned, "Make sure you have someone to back you up ok? I couldn't handle a call from Simon right now telling me you're hurt or worse."

"Yes Da," Jim teased and could almost hear Blair smile, "How'd he come up with that name anyway?"

"He was calling me sir," Blair's voice showed what he felt about _that_, "And I asked him to choose another name for me. He didn't like Dad or Daddy, but Da made his face light up. Turn about is fair play so I asked him what I could call him and he said Tommy."

"Tommy Sandburg," Jim rolled the name on his tongue and heard Blair chuckle.

"He'll match his Uncle: Jimmy Ellison," Blair told him and Jim yawned again, trying to smother it.

"I talked to my lawyer today – he can go over the legal stuff for you – make sure there are no surprises. You've got his address right?" Jim changed the subject before the teasing could take off.

"You didn't have to do that," Blair sounded grateful, "I was going to get someone to do it when we came home."

"Nah, let my guy do it. Hell, Chief, he already knows enough about our affairs anyway, with him handling our Wills and the Power of Attorney stuff. He's expecting to hear from New York, ok? Don't forget," Jim broke off into another yawn and then apologised. Blair laughed it off gently.

"Go to bed, brother. Call us tomorrow if you can. Your schedule is the most prone to upsets, so we'll wait to hear from you, ok?" Blair sounded tired too, and Jim nodded.

"Ok, I'll call you tomorrow night. We'll try and keep it to the same time frame – will that work?"

"Sure – if he's awake you two can talk, otherwise I could probably use the debrief myself. Thanks for listening Jim. I really needed to talk this out, you know?" Blair sounded wistful and Jim smiled.

"Any time, Chief. I need to hear it – I want to help you know, and if this is all I can do, then I want to do it," Jim was aware that didn't make a lot of sense, but Blair didn't seem to mind.

"Good night Jim."

"Good night brother."

0o0o0

Simon was waiting the next morning with the data from his detectives and Jim found himself closeted in his boss's office while they worked on the proposal. He found that it was a lot like the grant proposals and research outlines he'd read for Blair and impressed Simon with his ability to launch into what Simon called 'Blair speak' at the drop of a hat.

Rhonda brought in salads and sandwiches for lunch as well as fruit juice and speared Jim with a Look. Jim ate everything she laid out and thanked her when he went to deposit the wrappings in the trash. Blair had obviously spoken to her as well.

"So did you speak to them last night?" Simon asked when he got back from the roof – the only place he could smoke now and a cold one at that. The smell of his cigar wasn't too bad – it was a windy day and the smoke hadn't had much chance to settle on his clothes.

"Tommy talked himself to sleep," Jim grinned and Simon groaned. He had asked for the number in case of Sentinel emergencies, and didn't intend to call otherwise.

"Great – he would have to be as talkative as his father," Simon sighed and Jim shook his head.

"Actually, Simon we'll be lucky if we can get him up to that standard," Jim kept his eyes on the table and briefly outlined what Blair had said. He knew his friend wouldn't mind if Simon knew what was going on.

"Damn, Jim," Simon shook his head, "That's nasty."

"Yeah," Jim nodded and looked over at his friend and boss, "That's why we have to get him this job, Simon. We need Sandburg as much as he'll need us now."

"I hear that," Simon nodded and they bent back to their task.

As they packed up for the evening – the rough outline was ready, now they needed to polish it – various members of Major Crimes stuck their head in Simons office to ask after Blair. Jim told them the lighter facts he had, and chose not to reveal the awful side of things.

"I'm gonna go help him pack the place up on Saturday and they're flying back on Sunday afternoon," Jim added and Simon frowned. He locked the door to his office and turned to catch up with Jim, who was collecting his coat from his desk.

"Seems like a lot of work for two guys and a baby – you think he'd mind if I came along?" Simon asked as they walked out and Jim shook his head.

"The more the merrier," he replied, "If you don't mind camping in the penthouse."

"I'm sure I'll survive," Simon grinned.

Jim warmed up some chili for dinner and ate it in front of the television – Sandburg wasn't there to be shocked at the suspension of the house rules. Besides they were Jim's rules and he'd suspend them any time he liked.

Some impatient pacing and glaring at the clock after dinner passed the time until Jim could call. Blair answered on the second ring, his voice eager.

"Hey, Chief," Jim flopped onto the couch, "Whatcha doing?"

"Working on the first chapter – Tommy's asleep," Blair replied his voice affectionate.

"What did you two do today?" Jim pressed and heard all about the zoo trip and the potential new flat mate Tommy had wanted to bring home.

"Good thing you talked him out of it, Sandburg," Jim teased, "We've got enough of the animal kingdom running around in here, what with the panther and the wolf."

"But Jim, think of the pest control! You'd never have to worry about roaches or mice again," Blair mock protested and Jim shook his head.

"I'm not worried now," he informed his friend and got a chuckle in reply, "Chief, there's something I've been meaning to ask you."

"Shoot," Blair encouraged and Jim got up to pace.

"Uh, it's about the money. I mean, you've got enough, right? The lawyers aren't worried? You're not selling the Volvo just to pay the bills?"

"Jim, I've got more than I could ever use," Blair sighed, "I've been thinking about this. I can pay off all my student loans in one go, and buy the place next to you outright, and still have a lot left over. But I was thinking that maybe I should leave it for Tommy. He's going to inherit a lot when he comes of age, but maybe I shouldn't touch this stuff either."

"Blair – how much did the lawyers say?" Jim was confused – Blair's student loans weren't small and the place next door would be expensive.

"Over three million," Blair mumbled, "It's obscene Jim – what am I going to do with that much money?"

"Uh, Chief – it could fund a lot of expeditions. You could travel all over, looking for other Sentinels. Or you could choose another research topic and do that," Jim said softly. Blair snorted in his ear and Jim heard the curls rustle as Blair shook his head hard.

"I've already got my Sentinel," Blair reminded him firmly, "And if I go on any expeditions then you and Tommy come too. The tribe stays together Sentinel – your Shaman has spoken. Maybe I could donate to the Uni, what do you think?"

"Maybe a little – but you shouldn't throw your money away. Keep enough to fund your own expeditions – to fund ours," Jim corrected and heard his Guide relax. He'd learnt not to argue with the Shaman.

"Yeah," Blair agreed, "We'll become the worlds foremost experts on closed societies. The Ellison-Sandburg publishing team."

"Sandburg-Ellison," Jim retorted and they bantered back and forth until the discussion degenerated into insults, which Blair ended with 'nah-nah nah-nah-nah' and had Jim laughing too hard to reply coherently.

"Speaking of which – how's work?" Blair asked when speech was possible.

"Same old same old. We managed to go without the fire extinguishers this time, though both Rafe and Brown had their desks decorated," Jim grinned, and Blair chuckled.

"Bet they loved that," Blair commented and Jim nodded, staring out at the dark balcony.

"Browns' kids will – the toys went home with him and Rafe got the wet weather gear," Jim told him, "Taggert took some pictures – you can see them when you get home."

"Home," Blair's voice was full of longing, "Won't be too long, right Jim?"

"Right," Jim agreed, his voice echoing the sentiment.

0o0o0

Simon frowned at his detective and folded his arms.

"Jim, are you sure you want to do that?" he asked, "It's only one more night."

"You didn't hear the homesickness, Simon," Jim frowned, "And the stress."

"Ok, so I can understand that you want the time off once he's back in Cascade to help out, but can't you wait until Friday night?" Simon complained, "With you on desk duty we're already a man down."

"My flight leaves tonight, Simon," Jim replied and folded his arms over his chest in what Simon had come to recognize as the 'Blessed Protector' posture. The one Jim took when arguing with doctors, rescue officials and university department heads.

"I'll see what I can do, Jim. No promises, ok?" Simon sighed in resignation, "I've got to go see Patterson down in Vice – I'll see you later. Try and get that proof-reading done."

"You got it, Captain," Jim went and sat down obediently. He read through diligently, sticking those yellow sticky notes on the hard copy with scribbled corrections. Time passed unmarked until Simon returned with a stack of folders and a grin that wouldn't quit. He put the stack opposite Jim and sat down.

"Ask me what these are, Ellison," Simon invited and Jim frowned. Simon had that cat-on-a-canary-diet look.

"What are those?" Jim asked obediently and Simon's smile got bigger.

"Patterson had the top three on his desk. He asked if it was true we were trying to get Sandburg hired. When I told him it was he handed them over – his people had pulled all the cases Sandburg consulted on in the last few years," Simon leaned back and eyed Jim expectantly.

"There are six folders there, sir," Jim could be patient.

"The other three are from Murphy in Bunko. And Joel has some from Robbery. Homicide left a message with Rhonda about some possible information too."

Jim leaned back too and smiled slowly.

"Damn, I guess he really is a cop," Jim breathed, "After all – they wouldn't do this for an outsider."

"The professor knows his stuff, huh?" Simon boasted, and Jim nodded, tension draining out of him. Blair would have been ok with Major Crimes - he'd been accepted long ago. It was the rest of the PD Jim had worried about. There were hundreds of ways to make a civilian consultant's job miserable. Maybe they'd be spared that.

"I also got your leave approved for the next month. But I couldn't swing tomorrow," Simon didn't flinch from the scowl that was aimed his way, "Take a day without pay, Detective and consider yourself lucky."

"So what time are you meeting the guys tomorrow?" Jim asked, knowing better than to press for more. Simon showed his confusion and Jim gestured to the bullpen.

"Brown and Rafe booked their flight to New York this morning after they got the details from me. And Taggert was booked last night as far as I know," Jim grinned, "They all just want to help."

"Conner's not coming?" Simon asked, absorbing this latest surprise. Jim shook his head.

"She's on duty this weekend," he reminded his boss and handed over his marked copy, "Should I finish this, or should we add the new stuff in?"

"Let's start adding the new stuff in – maybe I can get Taggert to help out tomorrow," Simon sighed and looked out when laughter and hooting started up in the bullpen, "Now what?"

0o0o0

The flight was noisy, crowded and uncomfortable. Added to Jim's lack of sleep – he missed Blairs heartbeat, couldn't sleep deeply without it – and he was frazzled by the time the flight landed and he could get the hell off. The wait for a taxi was interminable and Jim was fighting to stay awake as he entered the lobby and showed ID to the night receptionist. He was waved over to the lifts without a murmur and Jim made a mental note to come back later and sort out proper security for his Guide.

In the lift his hearing flared out and he easily picked up the sound that formed the backbone of daily life for Jim – Blair's heartbeat. Jim felt his own slow to match it – his Guide was awake but at rest. Jim grinned, hefted his luggage and walked across the small lobby from the lift to the penthouse door. He hit the door chime and heard Blair startle then hurry towards the door. Jim used his sight to look through the peephole to catch the first glimpse of his friend, and nearly zoned on Blair's blue eye as his Guide used the security device more conventionally. He heard Blair's startled breath and grinned.

"What about a password?" Blair called through the door, grinning like an idiot from the sound of it. His hands fumbled at the locks for a moment before working right and unlocking the door.

"It's Ellison," Jim called and Blair opened the door.

Blair was grinning and Jim grinned back, then lunged a little to get upright, straight into Blair's arms. Jim pulled him close and leaned into his friend, grateful for the warmth and support. Jim buried his face in Blair's hair and they stood still for a moment, reconnecting and familiarizing themselves with each other. All of Jim's senses flared into sharp focus, letting the smell, sound, sight, touch and taste of his Guide roll over him in a wave. He felt the last of the tension from the flight drain away, leaving him with a warm glow.

"It's so good to see you," Blair sighed, "You're early! How'd you get the time off?"

Jim let him pull back and smiled. The familiar energy thrummed through Blair, making Jim feel more awake than he had for a while. Blair looked tired and worried, but he'd also relaxed in the hug, so Jim wasn't worried too much.

"Leave without pay," Jim shrugged and let go, turning to grab a case. Blair ducked under his arm to grab the other one. It was empty so Blair stashed it in the closet. Jim got a good look at the place his nephew had been brought up in. Blair was right – it was cold in here. Blair had shut and locked the front door while Jim looked around and Jim turned back to the person who signified home to the Sentinel.

"I didn't make your bed yet – I'll do it now," Blair said and turned to hurry down the corridor to get what he'd need. Jim grabbed the back of the sweat pants Blair was wearing and stopped him from moving, grinning again when Blair looked back in confusion. Sure, Jim was glad to see his Guide, but there was someone else involved in their family now. They were their own closed society.

"Can I look in on my nephew?" Jim not so subtly hinted and Blair smiled.

"Sure you can," he nodded and moved forward a little. Jim let go and shadowed him down the hall to Tommy's room. Blair went in first; standing against the wall to watch as Jim crept forward silently. There was enough light for Blair to see a little, but to the Sentinel it was as bright as day. Tommy was lying on his back, blankets across his chest, one arm around a toy the other flung over his head. Jim bent to peer at his nephew and sucked in a breath. The little boy looked just like his father – tousled curls and strong chin. He was angelic in his sleep. He smelt a little like Blair too – a sweeter version of the spicy musk that was Blair's skin.

"He looks just like you Chief!" he exclaimed in a whisper, ghosting a hand forward to touch the tousled curls. Blair grinned as Jim stared his fill and then crept back. Blair preceded Jim into the hall and then pulled Tommy's door partially shut. They walked a few steps down before Blair turned to look at Jim's face. Jim looked …awed. As if he couldn't believe what he'd seen. There was no doubt that Blair was this child's father – his Guide was a Dad!

"He's beautiful," Jim murmured and Blair nodded. Jim wanted another hug, but Blair had tensed up again and Jim wondered why.

"He's smart too, and funny. You'll love him Jim, I know it," Blair swallowed and turned for the linen closet, "You must be exhausted. I'll get the master bedroom made up for you – it has a en-suite and…"

So that was it – he was worried they wouldn't get along. Jim wasn't. The kid would have to be pretty awful for Jim to reject him now – and Jim was sure that wasn't the case. Nothing that came from his Guide could be awful.

"I don't want to turn you out of your bed, Sandburg," Jim wisely decided not to press things now – Blair was too emotional to accept any rational discussion of his son's attributes. Blair smiled, opening the closet quietly.

"I've been sleeping on the couch. It's comfortable and not too far when I crash after working on the thesis," Blair explained, "You're not turning me out of anything."

He handed Jim the bed linen and led the way to the master bedroom, flipping on the light switch and crossing to the large bed. Jim looked around from where he stood in the doorway and shook his head. It was cold and barren in here, and smelt of another person – not someone Jim wanted to know.

"No way – this is nasty," Jim frowned, "No wonder you're sleeping on the couch. There's a second one isn't there?"

"The housekeepers room?" Blair asked, a little confused. He was rapidly approaching his energy limit and would crash soon – Jim or no Jim. Sensing this Jim shook his head and backed out, watching Blair walk towards him and turn off the light. Jim swallowed a smile and took the easy way out.

"A second couch. I …I don't want too big a distance between us tonight," Jim confessed to the quilt and missed the expression on Blairs face. The Sentinel needed time with the Guide nearby after their recent separation. Jim knew that sleeping would be impossible if Blair wasn't close by tonight – his senses had a mind of their own when Jim was tired and would keep him awake searching for Blair.

"Sure, c'mon," Blair led the way to the living room and packed away his work while Jim made a bed on the other couch. He showed Jim the bathroom and then checked the front door again before curling up on his own couch. Jim joined him, wearing the boxers he preferred to sleep in, and draped his robe over the back of the couch. He settled in and shifted around, getting comfortable.

"Good night Chief."

"Good night Jim."

Their voices rang with satisfaction and they fell asleep quickly – Sentinel and Guide reunited.

0o0o0

Jim woke because he was hot. Usually, the blankets ended up at waist height, even in winter. Blair had once said that Jim's senses regulated themselves unconsciously when Jim went to sleep – a natural defense mechanism that prevented zones or spikes. Jim usually replied that he couldn't sleep under a pile of blankets and left it at that – he didn't want to argue himself into testing.

As always he extended his hearing to check on Blair – who was awake. He opened his eyes and made as if to push the blanket down before the scent on the edges stopped him. Tommy had touched it within the last few minutes – his nephew had been in and covered him against the cold. And Jim hadn't even registered it! Only Blair was able to do that – in hospital the nursing staff and doctors soon learnt that their patient woke at the slightest noise or touch, unless his friend with the long hair was the toucher.

Jim lifted his head and looked over at Blair, who made shushing gestures under the quilt. Blair was listening to something and Jim extended his hearing to find out what it was.

"…Won't he?" a child's voice said softly, "So we have to be very quiet Raffey – ok? Now remember – Da said never put anything smaller than your elbow in the toaster. The bread is bigger so that's ok, but the knife is smaller so we can't put it in. We need butter and plates too. Da said not to touch the kettle – we can have water though. You sit here and watch the toaster while I get the cups. Do you think Uncle Jim will like us Raffey? Da loves us, but he's Da and mother…she said that Da was special. He is Raffey – he loves us a lot. I hope Uncle Jim will…he's very big isn't he? Now we have to butter the toast. Be careful of the knife. Do you want butter Raffey? Ok then. Now be very quiet while I carry this out and then we can wake up Da and Uncle Jim."

Jim swallowed his grin and pretended to sleep again, knowing Blair would too. He tracked his nephew as the boy carefully carried everything out to the coffee table and went back for his toy. Tommy approached his uncle slowly and patted the broad chest beneath its blanket. Jim stirred a little and then sighed, pretending to go back to sleep. It wouldn't do to let the game out too early.

"Uncle Jim!" Tommy whispered, "Wake up, Uncle Jim. I made breakfast."

"Breakfast?" Jim mumbled and opened one eye, "Is it time to get up?"

"Yes," Tommy bounced and a huge smile creased Jim's face – the kid bounced just like his dad! Jim sat up and put out his arms. Tommy scrambled up for a hug, unafraid of the subject of so many in-the-car stories. Jim broke the hug after a moment and called over to the imposter on the other couch.

"Wake up Sandburg! Your son made breakfast!"

Blair faked a mighty snore and burrowed further under the quilt, and Jim smothered his laughter, which would give the game away. Tommy was wriggling like a puppy in excitement and Jim was determined to give him this happy memory.

"Wake up Da, I made toast!" Tommy called, with no response. Jim sighed, hauled his pillow out from behind and hurled it at his Guide. Blair merely snored louder and Jim sighed. Tommy was watching with wide eyes and nervous giggles. He was unsure that it was ok to have a pillow fight – even in Jim's house pillow fights had been ok when he was little. What kind of mother had Amelia been?

"I think this calls for extreme measures," Jim whispered, "We may have to tickle him. You tickle his chest, I'll take his legs."

Tommy's face lit up and Jim untangled himself from the blankets before getting up. He carried Tommy over to the other couch and deposited the boy on top of the Blair shaped lump under its quilt. Tommy latched on with arms and legs in more of a hug than a tickle posture.

"Ugh!" Blair grunted in a muffled voice. Tommy immediately began tickling through the quilt, with Jim going for the sensitive knees while the boy attacked the ribs. Blair began squirming and yelling for help, laughing hard as he fought to get out from under the quilt. Jim made sure Tommy wasn't accidentally bucked off and otherwise tortured his Guide without mercy. Tommy was laughing so hard he was almost crying and Jim couldn't help laughing at the gleeful noise too.

"Ok, ok I'm awake! Stop it!" Blair gasped and Tommy collapsed on top of him for a hug. Seeing the two of them together for the first time stole Jim's breath. The similarities were marked. Blair smiled at his friend and kissed his son. Their curls blended together and for a moment Jim couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

"Good morning short stuff. Did you sleep well?" Blair asked and Tommy nodded his head from its place in the crook of Blairs' neck, "And do you like your surprise?"

"Yes! Uncle Jim is here!" Tommy smiled and looked up at his uncle, who smiled back and reached down to tousle the boys wild curls.

"I couldn't wait to meet you," Jim rumbled, "Now how about that breakfast?"

They sat on the couch together to eat the toast, which was now cold. Then Jim and Blair made a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs and coffee, while Tommy made more toast. They ate this in the kitchen nook and Jim went on a crumb hunt in the living room while Blair and Tommy cleaned up in the kitchen. Father and son went to have their morning shower while Jim used the en-suite.

Jim sat on the coffee table while Blair and Tommy planned a trip to the aquarium, watching with delight as Tommy bounced in excitement. He bit his lip when Tommy thought he'd be left behind because he couldn't swim and was relieved when Blair came up with a way to soothe the fear.

"It's …a surprise, ok? You can come, don't worry. And so can Raffey, don't you worry," Blair added, and Jim nodded.

"We'll take good care of you both," Jim spoke up and Tommy turned his face out of Blair's neck to look at his uncle. His eyes were a little wet, but he hadn't cried. _Separation anxiety,_ Jim thought to himself and stroked Tommy's sock-clad foot. Tommy eased away a little and Blair smiled at him.

"Love you," Blair crooned and dropped a kiss on his sons cheek. Tommy hugged his Da and kissed him back.

"Love you," he replied and then turned to Jim, throwing his arms around the detectives' neck in a wild hug. Jim hugged him back, hearing clearly the muffled 'love you' Tommy whispered under his breath.

"Love you too Tommy," Jim replied and saw Blair's relief at this mutual acceptance of the two important people in his life. Tommy smiled, pulling back a little. Jim glanced at Blair and made a decision.

"Tommy, can Uncle Jim hold you for a minute? Uh…it's like a special hug that I only do for family…for when we meet," Jim smiled, hoping the boy would accept the awkward explanation. Tommy beamed and leaned into Jim, who folded his arms around the body in his lap, half closed his eyes, and turned his face into Tommy's short curls.

Jim carefully wove his senses in a net around the little boy, stroking the arms and legs that held tight to him in a soothing manner. Blairs scent overlaid Tommy's in a manner that Jim found very pleasing. The tiny heart beat tripped along merrily, a clear and lively beat that was a young echo of the fathers soothing rhythm. Tommy was relaxing into the touch the way Jim needed him to, the child's respiration slowing to give Jim a baseline to work from. He was also releasing the pheromones humans did when they were safe. Jim imprinted this in his memory – Blair had trained him to perfect sensory recall – and dropped a kiss on the curls for taste. Needing to know his Guide was there as well – that his whole family was together and safe, Jim reached out a hand and Blair moved carefully so he could be included in the embrace. With Tommy between them, held safely and lovingly, Sentinel and Guide reaffirmed their bond. This addition to the tribe would not drive them apart, no matter what lay ahead.

0o0o0

The aquarium was an eye opener for Jim – not only was the environment peaceful and full of beautiful things – but Tommy was full of questions and a natural curiosity that his mother had not managed to kill. He and Blair had managed to clear the air a little while Tommy played in the park, and Blair had processed some more over coffee. Jim felt proud that he was the one his brilliant friend turned to for help, that his opinion was important to Blair, as was his approval. Jim couldn't think of a way to express this to his friend at first and then it hit him.

"C'mon Chief," Jim stood up, putting their cups in the sink. Blair followed Jim out onto the patio. The storm clouds were massing in the sky and the wind was rising, but Blair ignored it in favor of working out what Jim wanted them outside for. Jim moved into the clear space in the middle of the patio and stood with his feet slightly spread, his weight balanced his arms at his sides.

"Assume the position, Blair," Jim grinned and Blair just shook his head, moving to stand in front of Jim, his back to his friend. Blair had started teaching Jim tai chi after Jim had been beaten pretty badly in a fight with a suspect. Tai chi left the Sentinel with a very mellow feeling and they practiced the form once a week. That had stopped after the fountain – though Blair still performed the form when Jim was out of the loft. This was the first time Jim had indicated he wanted their joint meditation to resume. Jim had denied himself that comfort because he didn't feel worthy of the trust and warmth meditating with Blair gave him. He had betrayed his partner over another Sentinel – and Jim was only just beginning to realize that Blair didn't see it that way. At the hospital Jim had said he wasn't ready to take the trip with Blair, but today he realised he already had – in fact they still were travelling together.

"Center yourself Jim. Let go of the dials and find the peace of your inner self," Blair murmured, closing his eyes and doing the same, "Let your breathing relax."

Jim felt Blair tune into him, echoed Blair's deep breath and lifted his hands, bent at the wrist in a graceful movement. Slowly, the ritual grace and strength of the form enveloped him, soothing the last of his raw emotions. Jim flowed through the form, breathing slow and deep. He could feel his energy flowing smoothly, could feel the connection that was Blair open and relax for the first time since the fountain and smiled blissfully. He could feel Blair moving in synchronicity with him; their timing flawless as the form progressed. All the pain and guilt began to take on its proper proportion as Jim let go.

Their movements slowed and stopped, as they returned to the start, bringing their hands down in the opposite of their first movement. Blair turned to face Jim and they sank to the tiles on the patio. Jim sat for a while; just absorbing the feeling of wellbeing and peace tai chi left him with while Blair meditated. After half an hour Jim got up and slipped inside. Tommy was watching with wide eyes and Jim smiled at him. The hair was tousled all over the place and there was a smudge from the playground on one cheek. He'd obviously been standing at the window for a while.

"You and Da danced!" Tommy exclaimed and Jim grinned. He brushed the curls into some sort of order and led the boy to the bathroom. Time to wash the smudges from his nephews' face and his own – the wind had dried his healing tears long ago.

"Sort of," Jim agreed, and helped Tommy wash his face, "Da's meditating now, so we have to leave him alone for a little while. Want to help me make dinner?"

"Stir?" Tommy asked eagerly, "My favorite!"

Jim guessed he meant stir-fry – trust Blair to get vegetables into his three-year-old and make it seem cool. Asian cuisine was a specialty of Blairs – the varied flavors and textures appealing to the eclectic soul. Jim had come to love it too – Blair always seemed to make it spicy enough to leave a tingle, but not enough to overwhelm Sentinel taste.

"Uncle Jim isn't very good at stir fry," Jim confessed, "How about hamburgers? I'm very good at hamburgers!"

"What's a hamburger?" Tommy asked and Jim almost stumbled on his way to the kitchen. Time to correct a major gap in his nephews' education. They chatted a little, Jim taking the time to learn a bit more about his nephews' personality and get the boy used to his. After all, Jim was not an easy man to live with and he had no illusions that he'd mess up a few times while Tommy lived in the loft. It was important that they learn about each other now, so Blair would be ok. Jim couldn't see any reason this would be difficult – Tommy was an appealing little boy who just wanted to be loved. He had the perfect father for that.

Jim and Tommy were washing their hands when Jim heard a key in the lock. With a frown and a muttered exclamation Jim hustled into the corridor in time to see two immaculately dressed adults step into the foyer and close the door.

"Grandfather!" Tommy exclaimed as the man helped the woman out of her coat and hung it up, followed by his own. She turned a frown on her grandson, who immediately stiffened. Jim watched in sorrow as Tommy turned from a happy three-year-old into a solemn little boy. All Blairs' hard work was undone in an instant.

"Good afternoon Grandmother," he said in a quiet voice and she gave him a plastic smile. Jim shivered a little at that – his fathers' smiles held more warmth and Jim usually thought of his parent as a cold man.

"Good afternoon Thomas," Mrs. Milton said graciously, "Have you been good?"

"Yes ma'am," Tommy nodded and went to shake his grandfathers' hand.

"Who is this, Thomas?" Mr. Milton ran a disapproving glance over Jim's neat jeans, dress shirt and cable knit sweater. Tommy turned to Jim, who winced at the mask on his nephews' face.

"This is Uncle Jim," Tommy replied in a low voice and Milton put out a hand to shake with Jim.

"Jim Ellison," Jim introduced himself, "I was sorry to hear of your loss, sir."

"Yes," Milton grunted and walked past Jim to the living room, "Where is your father, Thomas?"

"Meditating sir," Tommy replied and pointed out to the now darkened patio. Blair could barely be seen out there, an unmoving figure amidst the patio furniture. As they watched the first of the rain began to fall – lightly at first and then heavily. Jim bit back a groan – Blair still needed to be careful of his lungs and meditating in the rain wouldn't do him much good.

"Da!" Tommy cried and ran for the patio door, only to be caught by Jim. He knew that shocking Blair out of meditation was bad – even dangerous. Blair had to wake by himself or be woken with extreme gentleness. An anxious three-year-old could do a lot of damage and Jim reacted without thinking.

"Easy, kiddo. We can't just run out there – we might hurt him. Give Da a minute – maybe the rain will wake him up. If it doesn't I'll go get him," Jim held Tommy close, kneeling down and feeling the tense tremors running through the small body. Sure enough the cold water hitting him broke through to Blair who grimaced, shook his head and got up smoothly, hurrying to the door. Tommy launched himself from Jim's loose hold at his father and was instantly caught up and petted. You didn't need to be a Sentinel to see Tommy was crying and Blair looked at Jim in bewilderment, before spotting the Miltons.

"Mr. and Mrs. Milton! It's ...nice to see you again," Blair managed to smile, "Just let me go change and I'll be right back."

0o0o0

Jim drove through the traffic carefully, taking a moment to appreciate the handling of the car.

They'd weathered his first mistake pretty well, all things considered. His urge to protect Blair had upset his nephew, but Blair had helped him set it right. They'd had to play pretty hard to get Tommy to smile again, and the delay in fixing the problem caused by the Miltons little unannounced visit hadn't helped. Jim had made sure he had their keys when he walked them down to their car. He'd also made sure they understood that they needed to give plenty of advance notice before visiting again.

Blair couldn't understand why Tommy kept asking if his grandparents would come to Cascade, but Jim was starting to think the boy wanted reassurance that he wouldn't have to live with them again. He idly considered telling Blair his theory and then decided against it. The new father was under enough stress as it was without adding _that_ little nugget to his load.

Jim had managed to spring his surprise on Blair and was relieved when his friend cheered up too. Blair was working hard on the thesis now, so he'd be free Saturday night.

The airport didn't bother Jim as much as he thought it would and he grinned to himself. The difference it made having his Guide close by was often startling to Jim. When Blair first told him that his mental fitness affected his physical fitness Jim had tried to just shrug the idea off. It wasn't a new idea, but Jim had always dismissed that kind of 'New Age thinking'. The senses had proved to him how right Blair was. Jim was a lot more 'Zen' nowadays.

Daryl stood close to his father as Jim greeted his colleagues and Jim began calculating how to get everyone home.

"We'll take a taxi," Rafe gestured to his partner, who nodded and grabbed his luggage, "Just give us the address."

Jim scrawled it onto a slip of paper, then had to read it out while Brown wrote it down legibly. He caught Daryls' grin and shrugged, rolling his eyes a little. Joel caught the expression and snorted, before hefting his own bag and suggesting they get going.

"So, Daryl, how'd you swing a trip to New York?" Jim asked as he led the way to the car, "I'm thinking major blackmail material here, Simon."

"Joan had a work commitment this weekend and thought Daryl would enjoy coming with me," Simon spoke up and Jim heard the tale under that statement. The ex-wife had pitched a fit over something and Simon was wearing the consequences.

"Well, you lucked out Daryl – that game on Saturday night is supposed to be a big one," Joel commented, "Woah – this is Blair's car?"

Jim grinned as they examined the sports car thoroughly and loaded their luggage.

"So does this mean Blair is selling the Volvo?" Daryl asked as he settled in the back with his dad, "I've got some money saved and I'll be getting my license soon."

"Son, I think you can do better than Blair's old clunker," Simon spoke up, "It's not that reliable, and your mom and I would both prefer to see you in something we know is safe."

"Aw, dad," Daryl shook his head, "It just needs a little work, and Blair would give me a good price."

"That's the other thing, son," Simon turned a quelling eye on his teenager, "Sandburg has a kid of his own to think about now. He may need the cash."

"Oh," Daryl sat back, "I didn't think of that."

"Has Rafe and Brown got a taxi yet?" Simon asked to change the subject and Jim nodded.

"They were out of here before we got to the car," Jim confirmed, "I guess we'll meet them at the penthouse."

"So what's my nephew like, Ellison?" Simon settled back and Joel grinned, turning to look at Jim as they drove along.

"He's a very fragile little boy," Jim shook his head, "Sometimes he's ok, but you never know what will upset him. He's good though and loves hugging. He talks faster than Sandburg too – so watch out for that. I swear if we hook the two of them up to a generator you could power Cascade. And he bounces just like his father. Cracks me up every time."

"Will he be ok with all of us there?" Daryl asked and Jim grinned in the mirror at him.

"He loves surprises – we'll just make you a surprise and he'll be over the moon," Jim replied.

0o0o0

Jim relaxed in his seat next to Blair and watched the game. He knew he'd be sore from their little scrimmage and winced at the thought that he'd put his friend through that too. One day Jim would learn to grow up and quit being so competitive – the day they planted him probably. He grinned at the antics of his nephew and exchanged a knowing look with Joel – who was sitting on his other side.

"Damn, Jim, that boy has more energy than his father," Joel shook his head, "We're gonna have our work cut out for us with that one."

"Yeah, I foresee lots of 'sleep-overs' at Uncle Joel's house," Jim nodded and got a snort in reply.

"Like hell," Joel told him, "Uncle Joel will be too busy with Blair so Uncle Jim will have to step in."

"I live with the kid!" Jim protested and Joel nodded wisely.

"Home turf advantage," he said and laughed hard at the expression on Jim's face. Rafe distracted the bomb expert and Jim settled back in his seat to watch the game and just be with his friends. By the end of the game Tommy was curled into Blair's arms, sound asleep and clutching his fathers jacket in a grip that just wouldn't quit. Simon caught sight of that and grimaced in sympathy, looking at Jim sadly and putting a hand on his own sons' shoulder.

Jim still couldn't believe the letter he'd read. Amelia's callous treatment of Blair was inhumane – anyone who knew the man would also know how important family was to him. Jim's blood still boiled at her words and his friends' humiliation. Blair had expected to be slapped down for this and Jim had gone all primal on him. Oddly enough Jim thought it was the primal reaction that had reassured Blair more than anything else – it couldn't be faked or made politically correct.

Jim tucked his friend, his nephew and Daryl into the taxi and then grinned at his colleagues.

"Let's find a bar," he suggested and got a round of grins and slaps to the arm in reply.

The bar they found wasn't too far from the penthouse – in the end they'd decided to get the train ride over with and taxi home from wherever they ended up drinking. It was a bit up market – the men and women of Major Crimes preferred their bars to be simple and welcoming places not ritzy and expensive – but Jim had never been one to stand on ceremony and his colleagues were all like minded men.

"Damn, the grip Tommy had on Sandburg's jacket…" Rafe trailed off, "He's real scared of losing his father isn't he?"

"Yeah," Jim nodded, sipping his beer and thinking dark thoughts about the Milton family.

"I thought Blair was gonna have a heart attack when Tommy jumped on you Simon," Joel chuckled.

"I know how he felt," Brown spoke up, "My Teresa is exactly the same way – she sees a new friend and goes for them. Mary and I have our hearts in our mouths half the time."

"He's the spitting image of his Da," Simon grinned, "And that bounce! Do you think it's genetic Jim?"

"Oh yeah," Jim drawled, "He bounces, he talks a mile a minute, he's got more energy than the Energizer Bunny and more curiosity than any ten cats. Definitely Sandburg traits."

"He's one lucky little boy," Rafe mused, "Sandburg is so good with him. I mean the way he answers all those questions and encourages him and just plain loves him."

"Sandburg is one of the most open men I've ever met. His son is gonna learn a lot of good things from him," Brown nodded sagely and Joel raised his bottle.

"To fatherhood," Joel said and they clinked their bottles together.

"Hey!" Simon exclaimed, "Sandburg never handed out cigars! It's tradition!"

"We'll have to remind him," Rafe laughed and Jim grinned, shaking his head. If his friends thought Blair would hand out an addictive and unhealthy substance they were surely mistaken. Coffee was as far as Blair went in that regard.

0o0o0

Jim stirred a little as Blair snuck out, but didn't really wake. He knew Blair was headed for the railway and could smell the coffee and pastry his friend had organized. Jim rolled onto his back and drowsed a little more, just letting his senses stretch and flex enough to touch each occupant in the Penthouse. This was a low risk activity that Blair encouraged. Sometimes in the loft Jim would touch everyone in the building this way before getting up. He always found himself a little more centered after this exercise, and more confident in his use of the senses.

Jim woke up properly when Tommy snuck into the living room and opened his eyes to smile at his nephew. Tommy smiled back; Raffey clutched under one arm. Jim held out his arms and hoisted Tommy up for a good morning hug. The boy sprawled over his chest and snuggled in quite happily.

"How are you this morning Tommy?" Jim asked and Tommy lifted his head from Jim's shoulder to smile at his uncle.

"I'm good," Tommy replied solemnly, "I like basket ball."

"Me too," Jim grinned, "When we get home to Cascade Da and I will teach you to play if you like."

This earned Jim a face splitting smile and a wriggly hug as Tommy snuggled back into his chest happily. Jim lightly wrapped his arms around the boy and patted him on the back. After a moment Tommy turned his head to look at the blankets neatly folded on Blair's couch.

"Where's Da?" Tommy asked and Jim tensed a little.

"He went to take the car to the train. He'll be back soon," Jim was careful to make his tone light and easy, not wanting to trigger Tommy's fear of separation, "By the time we've had breakfast he'll be here."

Tommy went rigid in Jim's arms and Jim heard Brown sit up. The detective must have woken when Tommy came in and his paternal instincts were telling him Jim might need some back up.

"He's gone?" there was fear in that voice and Jim tried not to tense up even further, "Like mother?"

"No, sweetheart, not like mother," Jim crooned, stroking the boys arms and back constantly, "He'll be back soon – he's just gone with the car for a little while."

"He left me!" Tommy wriggled fiercely and got down, "No! He wouldn't!"

Jim stumbled up from the couch as Tommy dumped his toy and ran to the kitchen. His heart broke as his nephew hunted for his father through the kitchen and dining room, the study, bedrooms and bathrooms and finally the patio and living room again. Tears were gliding down Tommy's cheeks as he called for his Da one or twice and then stopped. Jim had grabbed the robe and slippers at the end of Tommy's bed and approached the boy with caution now.

"It's ok, sweetheart," Jim crouched in front of Tommy and wiped away the tears, "Da will be back soon. Get dressed for me ok, and we'll have breakfast. Everything will be fine."

"No! Want Da!" Tommy stamped a foot, pouting and flashing tear-laden eyes at Jim. Jim bit his lip and nodded. He got up and handed the robe and slippers to Brown before accepting the toy giraffe from Simon. It would do no good to either of them to get into a wrestling match over the clothes – Tommy didn't need to learn about testing Jim's limits right now.

"Look, guys, go have some breakfast, ok. Tommy and I will wait for Blair," he sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. He couldn't bear to push the little boy into obeying Jim's request and from the approving nod Simon and Joel gave him he'd made the right decision. When they were alone, Jim turned back to the quivering three-year-old and smiled gently.

"Ok, Tommy. We'll wait for Da together," Jim knelt and put out his arms. Tommy sidled into the hug cautiously and Jim tried not to cry too when the tears soaked into his robe. He led the way into the foyer and sat down, pulling Tommy into his lap and propping Raffey in Tommy's lap too. Tommy sat with his eyes fixed on the door and Jim stroked the rumpled curls gently while they waited, extending his hearing every few seconds to listen for Blair's heartbeat.

Tommy was tense and unmoving as his uncles and cousin finished breakfast and went to use the bathrooms. Jim was rocking him a little now and crooning meaningless sounds every now and then. Finally, Jim picked up Blair's heart in the foyer and kissed Tommy's temple.

"Da's here now Tommy," Jim soothed, "Just a few more minutes tough guy."

The lift was a few floors away and Jim deposited Tommy gently on the floor. Blair would have to deal with this alone – Tommy needed sole access to his Da for a moment, though Jim would be monitoring them both very closely.

"Just a few more seconds Tommy," Jim patted the curls and stepped away carefully. He stepped into the kitchen as the door opened and saw Tommy plaster himself to Blair's legs. Blair looked up at Jim, and Jim felt a warmth pierce his heart at the trust Blair had for him. His Guide knew the Sentinel would keep watch over the boy – and Blair knew Jim would look out for his nephew.

The others crowded around Jim to watch Blair soothe Tommy and then Simon cleared his throat.

"Lets get the linen packed," he said and shooed everyone out. Jim waited in the kitchen with the robe and slippers, knowing that Blair would come to him for them. Jim would be glad to get back to Cascade so they could start showing Tommy a normal life. Only six more hours until their flight.

0o0o0

Jim unlocked the door to the loft and let the smell of home waft over him. He'd never really considered it before but the mixture of his scent and Blair's, overlaid with the scent of their belongings and the more subtle scent of the building itself was one imprinted in his memory. Jim stepped aside so Blair could carry his son inside – Tommy had sacked out on the plane – and then went back out for the luggage.

"Do you want to just put him to bed?" Jim asked quietly and Blair shook his head.

"I don't want to freak him out," Blair replied just as quietly, "He needs to know where everything is so he'll feel safe. I'll wake him up now for a little while and then he can go to bed."

Jim nodded and began hauling bags to the right rooms as Blair sat on the couch and gently woke his son. He went to lean on the back of the couch as Tommy opened his eyes and grinned down over Blair's shoulder.

"Hey short stuff," Blair smiled and sat Tommy up on his lap, "Guess where we are?"

Tommy looked around carefully, rubbing sleep from his eyes and clutching Raffey to his chest.

"Where's the plane?" Tommy exclaimed and Blair laughed.

"Back in the sky, flying some place new," Blair replied, "Can you guess where we are?"

"Home!" Tommy bounced, "At home in Cascade!"

"We have a winner!" Jim crowed and pounced, snatching Tommy over the back of the couch and swinging him enthusiastically in the air before steadying the child to the floor and stepping back. Tommy had squealed with laughter at the ride and now headed off to explore, poking through the living room first and then out to the kitchen and bathroom. Every few minutes he would turn to look at Jim and Blair to check that what he was doing was ok. He was rewarded with smiles and nods of encouragement, smiling back hesitantly. After a quick tour he headed back to the couch and climbed up to sit next to Blair.

"Where do you sleep Da?" Tommy asked and Blair patted the couch cushion.

"I sleep out here for a little while. Eventually we'll have a proper bedroom each, remember?" Blair had made sure Tommy knew they were going to live with Jim in a co-joined apartment.

"Where does Uncle Jim sleep?" Tommy looked around and Jim pointed up to his bedroom.

"I sleep up there," Jim replied, "You can come up and have a look if you'd like."

Tommy put his arms up and Jim guessed he wanted to be carried. Jim tucked the smaller body more or less comfortably against his chest and walked up the stairs. He walked around the room once and then tossed his nephew lightly onto the bed, sprawling next to the giggling boy and tickling him gently.

"Da! He's tickling!" Tommy shrieked and Blair clattered up the stairs noisily, making a big production of getting between his son and Jim on the bed – which of course led to merciless tickling by Jim. Blair retaliated with a pillow to the head and Tommy grabbed the other one. Father and son pummeled Jim mercilessly until Jim managed to get hold of Tommy and hide behind him.

"Scaredy cat!" Blair jeered and propped himself on his weapon while Jim sprawled comfortably on the mattress. Tommy chose to cuddle with Jim and Blair traded an unseen smile over his sons' head. Tommy was beginning to accept Jim as a part of the family, much to Blair's joy.

"Ok, Tommy," Jim said gently, "There's an important rule I have to tell you."

Blair shot Jim a startled look – surely Jim wasn't going to start with the house rules already!

"See this?" Jim leaned over and pulled the brochure that came with his lock box off the bedside table. He showed the picture to Tommy who nodded. Blair felt his heart skip a beat – he knew what those boxes were for and he was grateful that Jim had thought to make his gun safe from curious hands. He'd ask Jim if he would show Tommy the gun later – there nothing worse than unsatisfied curiosity to lead a three-year-old into trouble.

"This is a very important box Tommy. I put something in there that is very dangerous to little boys. If you see this box downstairs I want you to tell me or Da so we can put it away somewhere safe. You have to promise not to touch it," Jim stroked Tommy's hair and Tommy looked over at Blair curiously.

"Why can't I touch it?" he asked and Blair smiled, "If the dangerous thing is inside the box isn't it safe?"

"Sweetie," Blair reached out to add his touch to Jims, "Tonight is too late to go into it. For now can you promise to follow the rule? Uncle Jim and I will show you what's in the box later I promise."

"I promise too," Tommy nodded, leaning into Blair's hand trustingly, "Da? Is there a monster in the box?"

"No sweetie. Just a tool – it can't get out or even move without a person touching it. But it's dangerous if you touch it the wrong way. Just like the knives in the kitchen are."

"You're safe here, Tommy. Da and I will make sure of that," Jim promised and Tommy nodded, leaning up to kiss Jim on the cheek before scrambling into his fathers welcoming arms for some soothing snuggles and petting.

"Bed time sweetie," Blair crooned as drooping eyes and nodding head signaled the end of Tommy's energy. Blair got up and then picked up his son. He bent over so Tommy could kiss Jim goodnight and Jim followed the two down the stairs protectively. He sat on the couch to check the mail while Blair stripped Tommy down, bundled him into pajamas and put the little boy to bed.

Blair grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge and joined Jim on the couch.

"Thanks Jim," Blair sighed, "I was going to ask about the gun."

"The first night you were in New York it just hit me. I couldn't stand it if he hurt himself with my weapon. I've ordered a small safe for upstairs – I'll keep my gun there once it arrives. For now the box is on top of the fridge where he can't see it," Jim took a pull at his beer and looked over at his friend, "Did you mean what you said about showing it to him?"

"If that's ok," Blair nodded, "I think it would be best if we let him see the thing – even touch it once. It's a part of your work so he's going to see you wearing it. We'll just make it very clear that he's never to touch it and leave it there."

Jim nodded, glad his friend wasn't going to take the ostrich approach to the situation bury his head in the sand rather than confront the gun and all it stood for. Blair was in favor of gun control and so was Jim – but the Shaman and Guides calling was to heal and nurture not hurt, so Blair preferred not to fight unless he was truly pushed into it.

"Sounds like a god idea," Jim agreed and hesitated before bringing up the next subject, "What about the Sentinel?"

"What about him?" Blair asked and then understood what Jim meant, "I wasn't planning to come right out and tell Tommy about him this week. But eventually he'll have to know. You can't suppress your senses at home – it's risky enough at the PD. We'll make it a secret – he'll be ok."

"With his uncle the freak," Jim slumped into the couch and Blair slammed the beer bottle onto the coffee table.

"You are not a freak," Blair's voice was vicious in its intensity, "I swear Jim, there are days I'd like to pull your fathers ears off. You are a beautiful man, with natural abilities and a good soul. Anyone who fails to see that is truly blind and undeserving of your time or attention."

"Easy, Chief," Jim protested, wrapping his arms around his vibrating friend and rocking slowly, "I didn't really mean it."

"The hell you didn't," Blairs protest was no less vehement from being muffled in Jim's neck, "I know your father hurt you Jim. I just wish we'd met as kids – I'd have protected you from him I swear."

"I know you would," Jim was sincere. He had a mental image of Blair the size of Tommy going up against William Ellison and winning. It warmed him to the core and he stroked Blair's back. Blair had wrapped his arms around Jim and was making indignant comments that were thankfully garbled in Jim's collar. The self doubt had surprised Jim there, triggering Blair's impressive protective instincts.

"Settle down Chief," Jim soothed, "We're both tired here and not making sense. Lets get some sleep ok?"

Blair nodded and let go, sitting back and retrieving his beer. He gulped down the last mouthful and refused to meet Jim's eyes.

"Pull his ears off?" Jim asked in amusement and Blair glanced up though his lashes coyly.

"Edited for strong adult content," he said sweetly and Jim laughed, took the empty bottle to the kitchen and headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

0o0o0

They started the day in what was to become their morning routine. Jim and Blair got up and took turns in the bathroom while the other one prepared breakfast. Then Blair got Tommy out of bed and the three men ate breakfast together. Blair got Tommy washed and ready for the day while Jim read the paper – later he would make lunches for the three of them, but this month they'd be eating together.

"What are we doing today Da?" Tommy asked as Blair led his son out into the main living area. The boy was wearing a brightly coloured top that fairly screamed for attention over a pair of khaki cargo pants. With his riotous curls and stuffed giraffe Tommy was adorable.

"We need groceries," Blair looked over at Jim, "We could all go together."

"Sounds good Chief," Jim nodded, though he wasn't too keen on going shopping with a three-year-old. The ones at the supermarket always seemed to be the spawn of Satan – whining and misbehaving with a vengeance. Tommy was bouncing in excitement though and Jim couldn't stop the grin that mannerism always gave him.

"Bathroom," Blair ordered and Tommy put Raffey down obediently to trot into the bathroom while Blair retrieved his sons' sneakers and put on his own. Jim heard the tap run in the sink. Tommy must be standing on tiptoe to manage the reach; Jim would have to see if he could find the little wooden stool he'd made in high school and put it in the bathroom for Tommy to stand on. Blair knelt down and Tommy hopped up to balance on Blair's thigh. With both arms around his son Blair deftly put on and laced both sneakers with a skill that left Jim grinning in admiration. Tommy went to Jim to have his coat put on and Blair handed Raffey over before shrugging into his own coat and shouldering the pack he carried.

"Ready?" Jim asked and Tommy nodded, clutching the leg of Blair's jeans as Jim opened the door. Blair led the way down the corridor to the stairs, picking his son up as he descended them quietly. Jim held the outer door open for them and Blair stopped on the street outside while Jim went over to unlock the truck.

"This is our street Tommy," Blair said and turned, "This is our building – it has a bakery, see?"

"A bakery?" Tommy asked and sniffed as a breeze wafted delicious smells his way, "Bread and cakes!"

"That's what they sell in the bakery," Blair agreed, "We'll go in there later and have a look ok?"

"Ok," Tommy agreed and Blair crossed the road to the truck. Tommy frowned at it and shook his head.

"Da, this isn't our car!" he protested, "It's blue!"

"This is Uncle Jim's truck," Blair smiled, "Our car isn't here yet. We'll have to ride in this one for a while."

"No child's seat," Jim pointed out, "We're not going far though, and I can buckle him into the center seat pretty thoroughly."

"Ok," Blair frowned, "I suppose it will be alright this time. We'll just have to walk a lot or catch the bus for the rest of the time."

"I could get a seat fitted to the truck," Jim offered, and Blair shook his head as they settled Tommy in and did up the straps.

"We won't be in the truck often enough to make it worthwhile," he replied and got in too, closing the door and doing up his own belt. Tommy couldn't see out the windshield, so he and Blair chattered away while Jim made the short drive to the local market that stocked a wide enough range to be Sentinel friendly. Blair had moved Jim away from corner store shopping when the Guide had moved in – the small store couldn't afford to stock the range of brands Blair had tested as Sentinel safe.

Blair knelt down in the car park again in what Jim was beginning to recognize as the parental version of a pre-emptive strike.

"Ok, Tommy, a few rules," Blair smiled, "Stay with Da or Uncle Jim all the time. You may look but not touch. Ask all the questions you like, but no means no."

"Ok," Tommy nodded solemnly. Blair smiled and got up off his knee, waiting until Tommy latched on before walking towards the store. Jim found a trolley that wouldn't drive him nuts and taught Tommy how to ride on the end while Raffey rested in the trolley.

Before Blair moved in Jim was a seek and destroy shopper – he went in with a definite list, got only that and was out again in the minimum time. Blair took over the grocery shopping when he moved in – citing his flexible schedule as a reason for the offer. In reality he wanted to double check that everything brought into the loft was safe. A few months after Blair moved in Jim found himself at a loose end and went shopping with his Guide. Blair favored the hunter-gatherer approach, wandering the aisles and picking and choosing as the whim took him. Much to Jim's astonishment this method was just as time effective, and less stressful. For Blair the sight of Jim draped over a shopping trolley as they wandered the aisles was a source of gentle amusement – the six-foot-plus man draped well.

Now Tommy added another dimension to their shopping routine as the little boy chattered in excitement at the colors and variety of objects he saw. It was painfully obvious that he had never been grocery shopping before. To Jim's relief Tommy accepted his fathers gentle 'no' with equanimity – though he didn't ask for much. Jim gave himself over to answering questions, steering the trolley and looking with poorly disguised pity at any parent with a whining child.

There was a brief delay in the hygiene aisle as Blair selected a 'no more tears' shampoo for Tommy that wouldn't irritate Jim's sense of smell, and a bottle of corm starch too instead of baby powder. The smell from the powder made Jim sneeze.

They headed off to the fruit and vegetable display and Tommy was holding a bag for Blair to put mandarins in when Jim caught the edge of trouble.

"Blair," Jim said significantly and Blair frowned, urging Tommy to silence and moving to stand next to Jim.

"What?" he asked in a resigned voice – they couldn't even go shopping? It just wasn't fair. Jim grinned at him.

"Two men with guns in the next aisle. They're planning to hold up the registers on the way out," Jim murmured and straightened to his full height assuming what Blair privately thought of as 'full Sentinel hunting mode'.

"You two get some place safe and I'll warn the manager," Jim continued.

"The hell you will," Blair hissed, "You'll take them on – I know you Enquiri!"

"And are were supposed to let the child walk into danger Shaman?" Jim hissed back, "You can't leave him alone!"

"Excuse me, ma'am?" Blair turned to a mother nearby and smiled at her. She smiled back cautiously.

"I don't want to alarm you but my partner here has spotted two armed men in the next aisle. We're with the PD and need to check it out, but my son…"

"Of course," her face was immediately understanding and worried as she herded her own daughter closer to the stroller with the sleeping baby. Blair squatted down in front of Tommy.

"Ok, short stuff," Blair smiled, "You need to go with the lady for a minute. Da and Uncle Jim have to go to work, but I promise not to be gone for long."

"Can't I come?" Tommy's face crumpled and Blair shook his head resolutely. He couldn't afford to give any lee way here – there was too much at risk.

"I won't leave the store. There's some very naughty men here and Uncle Jim and I have to go talk to them. Can you be good for me?"

"Ok," Tommy said in a very little voice and Blair walked him around the fruit stand to the woman. She held out her drivers' license to Blair.

"So you know he's safe," she suggested and Blair smiled in relief. He accepted the license and bent to kiss Tommy's cheek. Jim pointed to the frozen food section further down – the freezer's were huge and tall and should make a good barrier against trouble. She nodded and headed that way, pausing to gather other parents and shoppers, herding them ahead of her to the relative safety of the frozen food section.

"Jim, you don't have your gun," Blair murmured as they walked towards the aisle in question.

"I've got you," Jim replied, "That's all I'll need."

"I'm not a weapon," Blair growled and Jim grinned.

"Your brain is," he shushed Blairs indignant and almost silent diatribe. Blair paused long enough to warn a bunch of teenagers and caught up.

"They're on the move. They're going to approach through the second aisle from the end – the one that lines up with the express lanes," Jim passed the information on and Blair got an unholy gleam in his eyes. He grabbed a mop from the sale display and hightailed it towards the aisle in question, hissing 'stall them' under his breath.

Jim hurried behind Blair, turning up another aisle that had a stacked display of soup cans at the far end. He warned the people in that aisle to get to the freezers and then threw a can of tomatoes at the soup display. His aim was good – Sentinel sight really helped – and the display went scattering into the path of the two targets. Jim managed to fake surprise along with the few people still around and the stock clerk that came hurrying to see what had happened. The two men – dressed in jeans and plain sweaters, with plain caps and running shoes – were forced to backtrack and then go back up the next aisle in order to stick to their plan. Meanwhile, Jim warned the clerk and several others to get to safety before following the two men at a little distance. Jim noticed that there were fewer people around – obviously Blair had succeeded in warning a few others, though not everyone.

The two would-be-felons got to the aisle they wanted – which was empty – pulled their guns and tugged stockings down from under their caps to obscure their faces. The handguns were 9 mm's, and Jim felt a clench of fear – the clips would hold thirteen bullets and could do a lot of damage.

They looked at each other, nodded and ran full speed down the aisle. Halfway there, their feet slid out from under them in a truly spectacular fashion and they fell, arms and legs flying everywhere. They both lost their guns and Blair jumped from the top of the shelves – where he'd apparently been lying – to secure one gun while Jim went for the other.

"Cascade PD – freeze!" Jim barked and made sure not to tread on the film of olive oil that Blair had mopped onto the floor of the aisle. His friend stood on the other side of the oil slick and held the gun safely pointed at the ceiling, safety on. One of the downed men swore.

"Hands behind your heads! Face down on the floor," Jim continued and Blair moved carefully back out of reach when the men obediently rolled into position. In the distance Jim could hear sirens and knew that back up would be here soon. He called the Miranda to his two captives and then grinned over at Blair.

"Good plan Chief," he complimented Blair who grinned back and shifted a little restlessly. Jim understood at once.

"Back up is almost here, Sandburg. As soon as they arrive to secure the scene you can go get Tommy," he sympathized and Blair nodded.

"We'll have to scatter flour to absorb the oil before we cuff them Jim. I put some bags up on top of the shelf with the mop, ok?" Blair sighed, "I suppose we'll have to go do the paperwork today?"

"Looks like I get to show my nephew off at the precinct today after all," Jim crowed and Blair rolled his eyes. Two uniformed cops appeared, guns drawn and pointed at Blair.

"Cascade PD! Drop the weapon!"

"I'm Detective Ellison and that is my partner Blair Sandburg," Jim identified himself as Blair obediently put his arm straight out to the side and began to slowly bend his knees to lay the gun on the floor. He'd found it best to not aggravate the uniformed cops by waiting for Jim to straighten things out.

"Hell, Ellison, can't you even go shopping without seeing action?" the older cop straightened, "How you doing Sandburg?"

"Fine Murphy," Blair smiled, turning slowly with the gun pointed at the floor and his other hand in plain sight. He handed the gun over happily.

"I heard you were a dad?" Murphy asked. He was a skinny man with absolutely no hair and shockingly green eyes. Blair had met him at several crime scenes and around the PD. He'd found a friend forever when he loaned Murphy's younger brother a book for his school assignment. The paper got an 'A' and Blair got an invite to the Murphy family barbecue – something that until now had been reserved for cops only.

"He's here," Blair nodded, "We had to leave him behind. If you guys are ok I'll go get him?"

"Go on, Chief," Jim called as he scattered flour onto the slick floor to give them some traction while cuffing the perps. Blair didn't need to be told twice, jogging quickly the length of the store to the freezers.

"Da!" Tommy flung himself at Blair and was swept up for hugs and kisses.

"It's ok folks. The PD have the situation well in hand. Just stay out of aisle four," Blair spoke up and then thanked the woman who'd taken care of Tommy. He handed her license back and she smiled at Tommy.

"He was a very good boy," she complimented him and Tommy ducked his head into Blair's neck shyly. Blair thanked her again and then walked back to their abandoned trolley. The food they had would keep ok in the truck so Blair pushed it to the registers and paid for the groceries while the cops finished the mop up in aisle four. Jim spotted them on the way to the door and called Blair over. The store manager offered to watch the trolley and Blair took his son over to meet Murphy and a few other friends. Jim was greeted with clinging hugs too, and the Detective stroked his nephews' hair tenderly.

"He looks just like you, Sandburg," Murphy grinned, slapping Blair on the shoulder lightly, "You'd better not let my mother see him – she'll steal him away."

"No!" Tommy protested and reached for Blair.

"Murphy is joking, sweetie," Blair soothed, holding Tommy close. Jim made warning signs at Murphy, who looked startled but went along, backing Blair up.

"C'mon Tommy," Jim said gently, "You, me and Da are going to go visit Uncle Simon at work for a little while, ok? You can meet Auntie Rhonda and Auntie Megan too."

"Auntie Rhonda?" Murphy spluttered, "I want to be around to see you call her that!"

0o0o0

Rhonda and Megan spoiled Tommy rotten and gave Jim and Blair enough time to get the paperwork done before being claimed by Simon for lunch. They ate at Wonder Burger, which had the advantage of being close to the station.

Tommy recovered some of his bounce, though he declined an invitation to play in the ball pit at the store. Simon dismissed them to the loft and Jim went to finish the grocery shopping while Blair unpacked what they already had. Tommy settled in front of the glass doors that led to the balcony with his coloring book and Raffey.

"How's he doing?" Jim asked quietly as he unpacked the last of the stuff he'd bought. Blair sighed and shook his head.

"Ok," Blair leaned against the counter, "Jim…I hate that I had to choose. I don't regret helping you – but leaving him behind like that…it hurt, a lot."

"Chief," Jim's heart clenched, "Uh…I should probably tell you something. Simon and I…hell, almost the whole PD…are writing a proposal to get you hired when the doctorate is done. We thought maybe you could work with the PD full time – based in Major Crimes of course, but working with all the departments."

"You are?" Blair whispered in shock, "You'd do that for me?"

"Yeah," Jim nodded, swallowing hard, "But if you can't do it…I mean today was fairly standard for us, you know? You wouldn't have thought twice about it before…"

"I wouldn't have thought twice about it today if it had just been us two and Tommy was somewhere else," Blair interrupted, "Jim, it was the fact that he was in danger that had me worried. Your job is dangerous and you needed me to back you up, but he needed me too. If he'd been with Simon at the PD while we did the shopping and you'd spotted those two guys, I wouldn't have given it a second thought. I'm not worried about the risks of your job, Jim. I made peace with all that a long time ago."

"He won't be with us when you work at the PD full time," Jim said in a small voice. It was a dream come true to have Blair with him full time, and on terms that Blair was comfortable with, but being a cop or working with a cop was dangerous. It wasn't worth risking a split in the family if Blair felt he couldn't do it.

"No," Blair agreed, "He'll be at school or day care. He'll be safe with other children learning to do what children do. And when the day is over he'll be safe at home with us. Jim, I always worried what would happen to us when the doctorate was done. This was a dream I never thought would happen."

"It's not just Simon. Bunko and Vice and Homicide have all contributed and Richards from Robbery and Taggert have both offered to help Simon with the presentation to the Commissioner," Jim said proudly, "You might not be a cop, but you're sure accepted as one."

Blair's face lit up in a purely happy smile and Jim patted his shoulder gently. They turned to look out of the kitchen at Tommy, who was happily coloring away at his book.

"So what now? You should probably get some work done on the thesis. I can play here with Tommy for a while if you want," Jim offered, "Set the laptop up on the dining table and we'll be quiet I promise."

"You wouldn't mind?" Blair looked guilty and relieved at the same time; "It's just slow going at the moment, checking and double checking everything."

"Go on," Jim nodded and Blair headed for his room, hauling out the things he would need and setting them up. Jim went to sprawl on the couch nearest Tommy with a book and the quiet sounds of the computer keys and Tommy's pencils interspersed with the occasional rustle of pages filled the loft.

Jim looked up at the end of a chapter to find Tommy leaning on the arm of the couch looking at him. Again, the boy had sneaked in under Jim's radar and Jim made a mental note to mention it to Blair once he'd graduated.

"Want to read with me?" Jim offered and Tommy's solemn face split into a huge smile. The little boy padded over to the pack Blair had left by the door and pulled out the animal anthology that Blair had bought at the zoo.

Jim settled himself in the crook of the sofa, one leg leaning along the back of the cushions, the other on the floor and settled Tommy in front of him, holding the book so they could both see. Jim slouched down a little to get comfortable and then let Tommy pick the first story to be read.

When Blair looked up an hour later both Sentinel and child were asleep on the couch, the book lying forgotten on Jims leg.

0o0o0

After a fortnight of living with Tommy all Jim's doubts were assuaged. The child was happy and comfortable with his new home and new family and had blossomed under the loving care his father and Uncle dished out on a daily basis.

They'd done the gun safety lecture on Tommy's second day in the loft and explained Jim's job. That had led to a discussion of Blair's job too. Trying to explain what an anthropologist was doing working with a detective was hard enough when talking to adults – Tommy got a very watered down version that had managed to stem his questions for now. Jim was not looking forward to the Sentinel discussion, but Blair hadn't indicated that discussion was on the horizon any time soon, and had continued to train Jim's senses as usual with little verbal cues and physical reinforcement in the shape of pats and taps.

Tommy had begun to accept short term separations from Blair – taking trips to the park with Jim happily enough. Blair was always home when they returned and listened enthusiastically to his sons' adventures. Blair had also managed to leave Tommy at the loft for short periods with Jim – running down to the bakery, or walking around the block before returning. Tommy had…endured those separations stoically, letting Jim distract him with a story or a chore.

In what Blair declared to be an Ellison trait, Tommy loved to work around the loft. Jim would give him an easy task to do – like dusting the coffee table or plumping the couch cushions – while Jim worked at another task nearby. Jim had argued that Tommy couldn't have got it from his side of the family, to which Blair made a comment about osmosis that had left Jim laughing too hard to continue the argument.

Blair's work on the thesis continued daily. He timed his breaks around meals and morning playtime so he wasn't stinting his son's needs. They'd made a trip to the car yard to sell Blair's Volvo – the check went straight onto Blair's credit card – and another to pick up the Subaru. Jim had unloaded most of the cars content into his truck so Tommy could ride in the car with Blair. He'd detoured past the Taggert household to drop off the computer – helping to hide it in the basement – and then Tommy had been a 'big boy' and coloured in upstairs while Blair and Jim packed the stuff into Jim's already full storage space.

"Most of which is camping gear," Blair grinned at his friend, "Gear we should put to good use, man. I promised Tommy fishing."

"Are you sure Chief?" Jim asked as they put the last of it away and locked the door behind them, "How's the thesis? You're presenting it next week."

"It's done – Jim. One more quick review for safety and I'll send the data to the printer. The committee need a copy each three days before I defend it, so we can go then," Blair sighed and tilted his head at Jim significantly.

"He's fine – singing along to the radio," Jim stretched his hearing obediently and Blair smiled in thanks, squeezing Jim's wrist lightly and leading the way upstairs.

"What about the weather – it's a bit cold to camp out overnight for a kid – not to mention your lungs," Jim continued the previous topic and Blair stiffened.

"We'll make it a day trip then," his voice was a little tight, "And I'm not fragile Jim. You have to let it go."

Jim reached out and caught Blair's arm, pulling him to a stop.

"I can't not care, Chief," Jim sighed, "You know that. I accept that I can't protect you from the world and that I can't control the future. But don't ask me to stop caring."

"I'm not," Blair smiled and came to stand on Jim's step, "I'm asking you to trust me to care enough too. I don't want to leave you behind Jim, and there's Tommy to think of now. We have a little boy counting on us to care and be careful. I love that you care."

Jim folded him in a hug and they stood together for a moment – the last wounds finally beginning to heal. Then Jim stiffened and Blair let go.

"Phone," Jim ran up the stairs, with Blair just behind him. Neither man gave a second thought to the fact that they'd been standing on the first floor landing when Jim heard the ringing. They reached the door as the ringing stopped and Jim opened the door in time to hear his nephew say calmly into the handset,

"Sandburg."

In a perfect imitation of his Uncle's normal response. Blair smothered a laugh and toed off his shoes at the door while Jim closed it. Tommy turned to look at his Da and Uncle.

"Yes, he's here," Tommy said into the phone and Jim extended his hearing a little, stepping forward when he heard his father's voice.

"Ok," Tommy told William Ellison and held out the phone, "It's for you Uncle Jim."

"Thanks, Tommy," Jim smiled and took the phone, ruffling the short curls and bringing the phone to his ear, "Dad?"

"Jimmy?" William's voice sounded uncertain, "Who answered the phone?"

Jim wondered for a moment if his father was concerned his eldest son had married his male roommate and adopted a child without telling him, then decided to cut the other man some slack. Blair was sitting on the floor with Tommy, looking at the pictures his son had drawn while waiting for them to come back upstairs. The sight was enough to mellow anyone.

"Blair's son, Tommy. That's the first time he's answered a phone. Pretty smart for a three-year-old huh?" Jim boasted, "How are you dad?"

"I'm fine, Jimmy," William replied, "I just rang to see how you were doing. I've been in Japan, and Sally told me this morning about what had happened to Blair. I wanted to be sure you were ok."

"I'm not the one you should be worried about," Jim sighed, "It was too close, Dad. I nearly lost him this time."

"I see," William's voice said otherwise, but Jim wasn't going to call him on it, "May I come and see you son? We haven't spent a lot of time together lately – my fault, son, my fault – and I'd…like to meet Blair again. We never really had a chance to talk that one time. You say he's married?"

"No," Jim headed into the bathroom, closing the door so his voice wouldn't carry, "His girlfriend used him to have a trophy baby. He only just found out about it. She died and left him sole custody."

"Oh. Are they living with you?"

"Is that a problem?" Jim challenged defensively.

"No! Of course it isn't! I just want to know what to expect Jimmy. I know so little about your life now. I'm not judging you – I lost the right to advise or censure your actions a long time ago," William's voice was heavy with regret and Jim swallowed a stab of guilt before sighing and renewing his grip on the phone.

"Yes they're living with me. We're planning to extend into the apartment next door so we'll have enough room. Blair's going for his doctorate next week and he'll be working for the PD after that. I'd be happy for you to come and meet my nephew and Blair," he said gently. There was silence on the other end for a moment and Jim wondered what his father was thinking.

"Thank you," William said at last, "When would be convenient?"

"Why don't you come for dinner tonight?" Jim suggested, "If you're not too tired from your trip."

"Would five o'clock be all right?" William asked and Jim agreed. They hung up and Blair murmured a nearly silent apology that Jim had to retreat to the bathroom for privacy. Jim shook his head significantly.

"Dad wants to come over for dinner, Chief. I told him five o'clock would be ok," Jim smiled at Tommy who was headed his way with pictures. Blair's face cleared a little as he realised that Jim had been explaining his nephews' advent into their lives.

"Great," Blair smiled now and headed for the kitchen, "Does he like lasagna Jim?"

"Sure," Jim nodded and admired the picture being held out to him, "This is great short stuff! We should hang it up on the fridge!"

"Ok," Tommy beamed proudly, "Uncle Jim who's coming for dinner?"

Obviously the boy hadn't been paying attention. Jim smiled as he found the tape and Tommy held the masterpiece against the fridge – a picture of the three of them at the park.

"My Dad," Jim replied as he taped the corners down carefully. He put the tape on the counter and stayed at Tommy's height, "He wants to come and say hello."

"Your dad?" Tommy asked and looked over at Blair, "Da? Is your dad coming over too?"

"No sweetie," Blair smiled and got down on the floor too while Tommy thought this over.

"Is he my uncle too?" Tommy frowned and Jim shook his head straight away. William Ellison wasn't going to be called uncle by Tommy Sandburg if Jim had any say in it.

"No," Blair said gently, "Your Grandfather was your mother's Da. Remember? You called him Grandfather, not Uncle."

Tommy nodded and snuggled close for reassurance and petting.

"Well, it's the same here," Blair knew he was explaining badly, but couldn't think of another way to put it.

"He's my Grandfather?" Tommy squeaked with wide eyes and clung tighter. Jim reached out and put his arms around father and son. He was wondering if he could call and cancel dinner tonight.

"No, sweetie," Blair crooned, "Grandfather is in New York, remember? You're here with Da and Uncle Jim now."

"But then who is he?" Tommy demanded in confusion and Jim dropped a kiss on the shorter curls.

"Just Mr. Ellison," Jim soothed, "That's all. It's ok, Tommy. Don't worry about it."

"Promise?" Tommy asked and Jim smiled, nodding gently. After a few minutes of hugging and rocking Tommy was happy to let go and Blair and Jim stood.

"Should I cancel?" Jim asked and Blair shook his head.

"No, that would just make it worse. He'll be ok, and if it's too much I'll go visit Joel. Helen and the kids have been dying to meet Tommy," Blair ran a hand through his curls and shrugged, "Let's just get dinner started."

"I'll do that Chief. Why don't you two read a story together?" Jim offered. Blair smiled down at his son.

"We could do that," Blair nodded, "Or Tommy could help you tidy up while I make dinner. What do you say, short stuff?"

"Both!" Tommy said firmly, "Tidy up and then a story, Da!"

"Both!" Blair exclaimed, "Wow! I don't know if we're clever enough to do that!"

"You are," Tommy insisted, "Uncle Jim says you're a genie!"

"A genie?" Blair looked at Jim, and Tommy nodded vigorously.

"That means you're very very smart. It's a special word!"

"A genius," Blair corrected with a grin, "And so are you. Everyone in my family is very very smart."

"You and me and Uncle Jim and Uncle Simon and Auntie Rhonda and Auntie Megan and Uncle Brian and Uncle H and Raffey and…" Tommy started bouncing as he listed his family and clapping his hands.

"And if we don't get started we won't have enough time to do both," Blair broke in easily and Tommy grabbed Jim's hand to tow him out to the living room.

0o0o0

William Ellison arrived precisely on time, wearing slacks and a sports coat and bearing a gift for Tommy. It was wrapped in rice paper and Tommy took it hesitantly.

"Thank you," his voice was soft, but William smiled gently and sat on the couch. Tommy stood at the coffee table to unwrap the small parcel carefully while Blair sat on the floor beside him and Jim sat next to his father. The paper revealed a small carved wooden box, lacquered in red and black with no apparent lid. Something rattled inside when Tommy lifted it, and he turned it over in careful hands before looking at Blair for guidance. Blair grinned at his son and took the proffered box.

"It's a puzzle box, Tommy. You have to find your way inside to find out what the rattling noise is. There's a trick to it," Blair explained and handed it back after a quick look. Tommy nodded and went to the yellow chair by the windows. He hauled himself up without another word and started examining the box to find the trick.

"He's a little young for that, Dad," Jim said quietly and Blair shot his friend a look that shut him up.

"Nonsense," Blair retorted, "I had one like that when I was three; we got it from a temple near Kyoto."

"That's where I got mine," William perked up, "A stall under a big old cherry tree."

"Uh huh – that's the place," Blair smiled, "Isn't it a beautiful tree? They say it's as old as the temple. It's all knarled and twisted Jim, and the branches spread out in a canopy. With the blossoms on it's a fantastic sight."

"How long did it take you to master the box, Sandburg?" Jim smiled right back and Blair shrugged a shoulder, glancing over at Tommy for a moment and then looking back.

"About an hour," his voice was diffident, "I was a very curious child – I loved puzzles. It doesn't matter how long it takes – think of how proud he'll be when he solves it. Do you want anything, Mr. Ellison? I'm about to check on the dinner."

"No, thank you," William smiled, "It smells wonderful."

"Blair's a great cook," Jim agreed, "My diet has only improved since I met him."

"I'll remember that the next time you complain about a new dish, or want to eat Wonder Burger," Blair retorted and headed to the kitchen, leaving father and son alone to talk.

"This is a…warm place you have here Jimmy," William said looking around, "A real home."

"Yeah," Jim nodded, "We like it. It's comfortable."

"Blair seems well," William continued, trying hard to connect to his son, "Healthy."

"He's just fine, now," Jim nodded, tuning into Blair's heart for a brief moment, letting the steady beat soothe him, "He has to be careful about colds and flu, but he's back to his usual self."

"I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you," William sighed, "I always seem to let you down when you need me, son."

"Chances are I wouldn't have accepted it Dad. There was a lot of stuff going on at the time. Blair and I were fighting pretty badly and my boss was thinking of yanking my badge."

"Was it…because of the senses?" William almost whispered and sighed when Jim nodded. His father took his hand and looked Jim in the eyes. There was regret and sorrow in the older man's eyes.

"Maybe if I hadn't made you…maybe things wouldn't be so bad now if I'd tried harder to understand back then, son," William murmured. Jim started, unsure of how to respond. Was his father apologizing for calling him a freak?

"Actually," Blair broke in from behind them while he set the table, "It's probably for the best that Jim didn't use them full time until he met Incacha. Untrained like that he could have really hurt himself."

"Incacha?" William turned to look at Blair and Jim was grateful for the respite when his hand was released. Blair straightened and told Tommy to wash his hands.

"Incacha was Jim's first Guide," Blair explained, "Jim switched his senses off again when he left Peru. But after a while they just came back. That's how we met."

"You saved my life, Chief. And my sanity," Jim grinned, "He's my Guide now Dad. My very own brother and soul mate."

William nodded and stood. He stepped out from behind the couch towards Blair.

"I'm glad you have each other," he said hesitantly, "And I want to thank you Blair for being strong enough to do what I couldn't."

"It's my honor," Blair said simply and shook the hand stretched out towards him. Tommy came back in and smiled up at the adults as they bustled to sit at the table and dish out dinner.

Jim cleaned the kitchen while Blair and William sat in the living room over after dinner coffee. Tommy was back in the yellow chair with the puzzle box. Jim listened to the conversation shamelessly, though it was mostly a travel dialogue as Blair and William compared notes. They were interrupted in Brazil by Tommy's shout of triumph as the puzzle box yielded to his determined fingers.

"A dragon!" Tommy shouted, snatching the figure carved from jade from the box and wriggling off the chair. He carried both objects over to the couch and climbed up between the two adults before turning to show Blair.

"How did you know they're my favorite?" Tommy demanded and William smiled down at the excited face.

"Just lucky, I guess," he chuckled. Tommy bounced up onto his knees – ignoring the 'no feet on furniture' rule just like his Da – and gave William a big hug. William returned the hug carefully, smiling at Blair who winked and held the small dragon up for Jim to see.

"Looks a bit like the one in the story, Tommy," Jim called from the kitchen as he wiped plates. Tommy grinned and nodded enthusiastically.

"Have you read it?" he asked William, who had to confess he hadn't. Tommy wriggled down and hurried into his room, hurrying back out with the book that was kept on the bedside table. He put the book on the couch and held his arms up to William. The older man hesitated a minute, then perched Tommy gingerly on his knee. He glanced at Blair to see if this was ok, received a reassuring nod and grin then picked up the book at Tommy's urging. Blair passed the dragon to his son and went to help put away the dry plates and glasses.

"Another Sandburg gene comes to light – the blatant manipulation of elders," Jim whispered and Blair frowned.

"Actually I think that only works on Ellisons," he replied Sentinel quiet, "Dominant genes."

Jim snorted and wiped down the counter while Blair folded and hung the towel. They rejoined the others on the couch in time for the end of the story. William had pulled Tommy onto his lap comfortably, and the boy was leaning against him in his trusting manner.

"What's another word for Grandfather?" Tommy asked, looking up at William with a little frown. William looked puzzled, but played along willingly.

"There's lots of names," he murmured, "Granddad…Grandpa…Gramps… um…Pop…Poppy …"

"Poppy?" Tommy craned his head back to look at William and Jim caught his breath, "Can I call you that?"

"Um, sure," William floundered, "If that's ok with your father and Jimmy."

"Da," Tommy corrected, "And Uncle Jim."

"Uncle Jimmy," Blair grinned and Jim groaned.

"Don't start, Sandburg," he warned, "Uncle Jim is just fine, Tommy. Da is being silly."

"Da's not silly!" Tommy flashed back, his eyes sparking. William chuckled.

"Uncle Jim means Da is joking," William mediated and Tommy looked up at him trustingly.

"So can I call you Poppy?" he reverted to his first question with typical curiosity. William saw Jim and Blair exchange a look and Jim's hesitant nod to Blair, who smiled and nodded at William easily.

"I'd like that very much," William replied. Jim put a hand on his fathers' shoulder for a moment.

"Welcome to the family," he smiled.

**End Cascade…**

0o0o00o0o00o0o00o0o00o0o0

…**Begin Glimpses…**


	3. Glimpses

Glimpses Disclaimer: The Sentinel, Blair Sandburg, Jim Ellison, Simon Banks, and all other characters are property of Paramount and Pet Fly. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money has exchanged hands.

Glimpses

by Shedoc

0o0o0

Blair switched the engine off thankfully and leaned his head on the steering wheel. His head pounded, his throat was sore and his joints ached. He was exhausted and quite frankly not looking forward to going upstairs to the loft. He loved his family and was always glad to spend time with them, but just for this brief moment Blair wished he were going to an empty warehouse where he could drop things where he wanted and just crawl straight into bed. No greetings, questions, house rules or listening to someone else's day.

"Are you planning to sleep there?" Jim tapped on the window and Blair jumped in shock before yanking his keys from the ignition and grabbing for his pack.

"Sorry, Chief," Jim apologised as he opened the door for Blair and snagged the pack, "Didn't mean to startle you."

"Hi Da," Tommy said quietly and took Blair by the hand carefully, "C'mon, me and Uncle Jim are gonna take care of you."

"Are you?" Blair asked, a little bewildered and let them usher him across the road. Tommy led the way upstairs confidently and Blair decided to just go with the flow.

"When do we get your results Chief?" Jim asked, putting a hand in the small of Blair's back to steady him.

"Tomorrow afternoon," Blair mumbled, "Go back at three."

"Seems like a long time to wait," Jim scowled - didn't they realize how important this was to Blair and the family? Blair shrugged and trudged along the hall to the loft, stopping to let Jim unlock the door. He toed off his leather shoes and pulled his hair free from the silver clip. Tommy took the shoes away and Jim helped with his jacket and tie.

"Go have a shower and get into your sweats Chief. Dinner in twenty," Jim urged gently and Blair nodded, leaned down to hug and kiss his son before dragging himself off to the shower.

The hot water soothed the worst of the aches and the casserole filled a hole in his stomach Blair hadn't even noticed, taking away the edge of his headache as well. As soon as he finished Tommy was leading Blair to his old room and his brother pulled back the covers on the futon.

"Tommy can sleep upstairs with me tonight Chief. Go to sleep now, ok?" Jim urged and Tommy helped tuck the exhausted man in before kissing him on the cheek and tiptoeing out, one hand firmly attached to Uncle Jim.

Three o'clock found nephew and uncle sitting in a warm hallway on a saggy old couch.

"What time is it Uncle Jim?" Tommy asked in the barest whisper and Jim smiled. His nephew might not have said anything about it yet, but he'd definitely noticed Jim's sight and hearing were better than average. He knew he didn't have to raise his voice to talk to his uncle and loved having 'secret' conversations with him.

"It's one minute to three," Jim whispered back a little louder. Blair was pacing the hall nearby and Jim was getting dizzy just watching. He could hear his friends' heart racing nervously and breathed deeply - determined to be calm for the both of them. A door opened further down the corridor and a woman in pearls and a navy skirt suit emerged.

"Mr. Sandburg?" she called and Blair whirled, heading towards her quickly. She ushered him into her office and Tommy clutched at Jim's arm in excitement.

"Breathe, Tommy," Jim smiled, "Everything will be ok."

Tommy nodded and leaned into Jim's arm, stroking his cheek against the woolen sleeve and keeping his eyes fixed on the door Blair had entered. Time dragged for them both before the door opened again and Blair emerged. He shook hands solemnly with the lady and turned, walking calmly towards his family until he heard the door behind him shut.

A huge grin split his face and he turned a cartwheel right there in the corridor.

"I did it!" he exclaimed and hugged a cheering Tommy to him. Jim joined in, making it a three-way hug.

"My brother the doctor!" Jim crowed, "I knew you'd make it Chief!"

"Doctor Da! Doctor Da!" Tommy chanted and kissed Blair's cheek happily. Blair kissed him back and grinned at Jim.

"Not without you," Blair smiled, "My inspiration."

"My Guide," Jim breathed and Blair tucked his head into Jim's neck for a moment - a rare caress.

"Let's tell Uncle Simon!" Tommy exclaimed, "And Poppy! And Auntie Rhonda!"

"Yeah!" Jim seconded and dug out the cell phone.

0o0o0

Simon balanced the pot plant carefully in the crook of his arm and knocked on the door of apartment 305. True, he had a key to the front door, just like he did for 307, but tonight was special.

It was the official house-warming party of Doctor Blair Sandburg. Blair had moved in next door to Jim and the two men had knocked a door in their common wall. As far as Simon knew there was no door in the doorway - making it a corridor by default. A lot of people thought it strange that Blair would choose to move next door to his official partner, but Simon knew better. Sentinel and Guide remained together, no matter what - especially after the incident at the fountain.

The door opened and Tommy grinned up at his Uncle Simon. The boy was wearing cargo pants and a cable knit sweater. His favorite toy giraffe was tucked under one arm.

"Tommy Sandburg did you open that door?" Simon almost scowled. A dangerous habit for a three-year-old with two front doors, and one that would be nipped in the bud right now.

"No, Uncle Simon," Tommy shook his head emphatically, "Uncle Jim said it was you and undid it for me. I just pulled."

"That's good, Tommy," Simon smiled, "Never open the door without your Da or Uncle Jim's permission ok?"

"I know that rule!" Tommy protested, "I promised not to."

"Good boy," Simon stepped in and Tommy pushed the door shut while Simon got his first real look at the loft that Blair had bought.

It had brick walls, glass doors leading to a balcony and wooden floors like Jim's, but there the resemblance ended. Jim's balcony looked over the harbor - eventually - Blair's faced the mountains. Jim's kitchen featured warm wooden cabinets; Blair's featured cool metal finished surfaces. The staircase had a bookshelf built under it, already filled with Tommy's toys and books. There were two blue overstuffed couches set in front of a blue stained wooden coffee table. A modest entertainment system was built into the corner the couches faced. A solid wood dining setting in cool tones rested in the same place Jim's did next door.

The real feature was the bookcase. It ran without pause from floor to ceiling around the three inner walls of Blair's loft. The front door - which was covered in pictures drawn by Tommy - was the only break in the bookcase. It even ran up the stairs to the loft where Blair slept. It was full of books, framed pictures, artifacts and memorabilia from dozens of expeditions and travels. Blair had installed indirect lighting to fill his home with a gentle glow, supplemented by table lamps.

"Woah - what library exploded in here?" Simon asked Blair as his host approached with two beers in hand.

"I had them all in storage at the Uni," Blair shrugged, "I never realised how much stuff I'd accumulated. And of course there was all the stuff in my office too - you've seen that, Simon."

"I thought most of it was on loan!" Simon accepted the beer and shook his head, looking around with a grin; "It's you, kid. I'll give you that. How do you reach the top shelves?"

"See that railing that runs around the upper part of the shelves?" Blair pointed, "The ladder hooks onto that and I climb it."

"Is that safe?" Simon asked dubiously and Blair laughed, nodding in reassurance.

"Perfectly," he replied, "Handy for dusting too."

"Oh, here. I got you a plant," Simon remembered his armful and handed it over to Blair, "Try not to kill it in the first week, ok?"

Blair laughed in appreciation and accepted the gift.

"I've got the perfect spot for it," he smiled and headed away. Simon spotted Jim and over on one of the couches and headed in that direction, only to be stopped by Tommy.

"Want to see my room?" Tommy asked hopefully, and Simon grinned, reaching down to take the hand being held up to him. Tommy gripped him tightly and Simon rubbed his thumb over the small knuckles in a move that always worked with Daryl. The anxious grip eased a little.

"I'd love to see it," he replied and was led to the French doors under the loft. Déjà vu Simon mused as Tommy pushed the door open carefully and led the Captain in. The built in wardrobe was again decorated with Tommy's artwork. There was a desk made of stained pine and a tall boy and dresser to match. A toy box sat at the foot of the queen sized single bed. A brightly patterned doona topped the bed and a plain rug in soothing colors rested on the floor. There were framed photographs on the walls - Tommy and his mother in formal poses and Tommy with Blair or Jim informally. A basket ball rested on the floor next to the dresser - one of the small sized ones perfect for a three-year-old to play with outside.

"Do you like it?" Tommy bounced, "I picked where it all went by myself! Da and Uncle Jim let me be the boss!"

"That's why it looks so nice!" Simon grinned and Tommy giggled happily. Jim stuck his head in the room and said hello to Simon, before telling Tommy that Poppy was on his way down the corridor and did Tommy want to open the door for him?

Tommy dashed out of the room and was brought up sharply by rule number one - no running inside.

"Poppy?" Simon asked and nearly choked as the happy boy engulfed William Ellison in an exuberant hug.

"He adopted Dad the first night they met," Jim shrugged, "And…I don't know, Simon, but Dad's…different now. More accepting."

"You're ok with it, Jim?" Simon pressed and Jim nodded.

"Maybe he'll be a better Poppy than he was a father," Jim smiled, "I don't have the heart to shut him out now, Simon. Look at how happy they are."

"Jim! We're out of dip!" Blair called from the kitchen. Jim raised his voice to be heard clearly.

"I've got some still, I'll go get it."

Simon followed his friend into the apartment next door, through the passage between the two bathrooms. He looked around at the familiar set up in Jim's loft, and then looked again.

"Hey - Sandburg still has stuff here!" Simon exclaimed and Jim shrugged.

"I got used to having the artifacts and stuff around. He said he'd leave them up if I wanted. We spend most of our time in each other's houses, Simon. Breakfast at his place, dinner at mine in turn about. We've now got two bathrooms - thank God. Tommy wanders from one living room to the other as the mood takes him, and I've still got some of his toys and things here too. It's an extension, not a separation," Jim pulled the bowl of dip out of the fridge and grinned at his boss, "I'm not cleaning his half though!"

0o0o0

Tommy Sandburg looked up from his game and frowned. Something wasn't right. Da had run down to the corner store for some milk, leaving Tommy in their half of the apartment. Tommy knew that Uncle Jim was right next door if he needed anything, and he knew better than to play in the kitchen or on the stairs. Uncle Jim would hear the first whisper Tommy made, so the little boy wasn't fretting.

Still, there was something wrong. Tommy abandoned the toy cars and got up, looking around his home carefully. Nothing was out of place. He frowned and bit his lip before trotting gently in sock-clad feet to the short passage that led to Uncle Jim's house.

At first glance everything looked ok, though Tommy couldn't see Uncle Jim. There was a funny smell, and Tommy sniffed gently before walking hesitantly towards the kitchen.

"Uncle Jim!" Tommy cried and ran to his Uncles side. There was an open bottle on the floor, pouring a smelly liquid in a puddle, and Tommy put it upright before putting the lid on. Uncle Jim was lying on the floor, curled up tight in a little ball, with some of the smelly stuff on his shirt too. He was shaking and making very quiet noises.

Tommy knelt next to the big man and patted the shaking shoulders gently. His face scrunched up in sympathy as Tommy wondered what he could do to make it better. His father's voice and words came back to him and Tommy leaned down to his uncle's ear.

"Shhh," Tommy soothed in a croon, "It's ok Uncle Jim. I'm here."

He repeated that over and over until Uncle Jim unrolled a little. Tommy reached down and started fumbling with Uncle Jim's buttons, intent on taking off the smelly shirt. He kept talking quietly in an eerie mimicry of Blair's soothing tones as one by one the buttons came undone. Uncle Jim had to sit up to take the shirt off and Tommy accomplished it with much tugging and orders. He tossed the shirt away and went back to patting Uncle Jim, who was now hunched up against the cupboard.

The front door to Tommy's apartment opened and Tommy leapt up, breaking the no running rule in order to get his Da.

"Da! Da! Uncle Jim's sick! He spilt some smelly stuff in his kitchen and it's made him all sick!" Tommy cried and Da put the milk down on the floor before running to Uncle Jim's kitchen.

"Jim where are the dials?" Da asked in that soothing croon Tommy loved to hear.

"Too high," Uncle Jim winced and Da nodded. He got his arms around Uncle Jim and got him upright and into their apartment.

"Tommy, I need the quilt from your bed, sweetie. Can you get it please?" Da asked and Tommy nodded, hurrying away to tug the doona loose and make a huge bundle out of it. When he got back to the living room there were two piles of clothes on the floor and Uncle Jim was lying nearly on top of Da on the couch. Tommy helped Da spread the doona over Uncle Jim and then got the phone at Da's request.

"Simon, it's me. We have an emergency here - can you come?" Da asked, while Uncle Jim pressed his face into Da's neck and shivered. Tommy went to put the milk in the fridge and then came back to sit on the other couch, his eyes wide as Da started to speak to Uncle Jim in that croon again.

"It's ok, Jim. The ammonia has spiked your senses to the max at the moment, but we're going to drop them back to the baseline, ok? First of all I need you to reduce your touch. Right now everything is harsh and too hot, so I want you to see that dial and turn it slowly down. Take it down until the doona is a light weight on you and my skin is just a gentle warmth. Easy does it, big guy, nice and slowly, ok?"

"Better," Uncle Jim gasped and Da nodded, stroking Uncle Jim's hair gently and pressing his face against the top of Uncle Jim's head. Tommy loved hugs that felt like that - it made him feel safe and loved.

"Now we're going to try hearing. I want you to find that dial and turn it back down. You're listening too hard Jim, so just let it go. Relax and turn the dial back to the comfortable level. No need to force it, partner - just let it go. Feel and hear my voice warming you up, ok?"

"Hmm, good," Uncle Jim mumbled and then stiffened, "Someone!"

"Jim? Blair?" Uncle Simon called from next door.

"Go get him, Tommy," Da said quickly and Tommy was off like a shot, making shushing noises as soon as he was in range.

"Tommy, are they next door?" Uncle Simon whispered and Tommy nodded. Uncle Simon took his shoes off and walked quietly down the passage and into the living room.

"How is he?" Uncle Simon whispered and Da sighed.

"Spiked to the max. This would work better in bed. Can you help me get him upstairs, Simon?"

"Sure," Uncle Simon bent down and waited expectantly.

"Jim, Simon's going to touch you now - he's going to help me get you to bed, ok? You have to let him touch you just for a little minute," Da crooned and nodded to Uncle Simon who picked Uncle Jim up with a grunt and ignored the pained sound Uncle Jim made. Da was in his boxers and he led the way upstairs to his bed quickly, stripping the doona back and piling up the pillows before climbing in and settling Uncle Jim back in his arms. Uncle Jim snuggled into Da as close as he could and hid his face again. Uncle Simon took Tommy's quilt away and covered the two men up gently.

"Say goodnight, Tommy," Uncle Simon whispered, "We can't come back up here again now. Uncle Jim will be better in the morning, but Da has to stay with him now. I'll spend the night with you ok? It'll be like a sleepover."

Tommy climbed up onto Da's big bed and kissed first Da then Uncle Jim. He led the way downstairs and watched Uncle Simon collect his pajamas and pillow from the bed before leading the way to Uncle Jim's side.

They cleaned up the smelly liquid and opened the windows before going down to the park.

"Uncle Simon - you won't tell what happened will you? Uncle Jim is magic and it's a secret," Tommy looked trustingly up at his second favorite uncle and was rewarded with a big grin and a hug.

"Tommy I've known about the magic for a very long time. I won't tell, I promise. And you did a great job today, kid. I'm sure Da and Uncle Jim are proud of you," Uncle Simon put Tommy down and pointed to the equipment, "Isn't that your friend over there?"

"Oh yeah! Hey Miki!"

0o0o0

Jim stirred gently and felt a hand rub his back slowly. Blair's heart thrummed soothingly beneath his cheek. He sighed against warm skin and moved his head so it was propped on his Guide's shoulder.

"Bad?" Jim asked and Blair smiled, shaking his head.

"Just a little spike," Blair soothed, "Nothing to worry about. Simon came and helped me get you up here and then he took Tommy next door for the night."

"Should have known better than to open that bottle without you being around. The lid was on so tight I spilt it all over me and the fumes knocked me down before I could get my shirt off," Jim explained. He was warm and very comfortable, curled up against Blair like this. The first time it had happened he was mortified, but Blair explained that Jim had merely given instinctive control to Blair while he recovered and it was only a problem if Jim turned it into one.

Jim had slowly come to realize he loved the sense of peace and well being snuggling with Blair gave him after an intense negative reaction. Blair had never been less than a perfect gentleman in bed and the buzz would last Jim for days. Affection like this had been rare in Jim's childhood and Carolyn had never been a snuggler. Blair indulged him happily.

"Who took your shirt off then?" Blair asked absently, his hand tracing light patterns all over Jim's back. Jim snuggled back into the crook of Blair's neck for more of his Guide's scent and closed his eyes happily.

"Tommy did," Jim replied drowsily, "His voice was just like yours Blair. I think he's a Guide too. He sneaks in under my radar like you do and I knew I could trust him."

"Guide genes?" Blair murmured, keeping his voice soft and gentle. Jim was going back to sleep under his touch and scent - he'd wake up refreshed and fully recovered in an hour or so. Jim's hand traced over Blair's chest and settled over his heart again.

"Mm-hmm," Jim mumbled and let himself relax. He felt arms cuddle him close and slid away to sleep.

Quiet footsteps announced Simon and Tommy's presence after a while and Blair turned his head, smiling. The first time Simon had found Jim and Blair in bed together he'd freaked - Blair couldn't ride along with someone he was sleeping with; the risks were too great.

Blair had cornered Simon later - once Jim was happy to let Blair out of sight. He'd explained what was going on and argued so convincingly against canceling his status that Simon couldn't help but be impressed despite himself. The next spike had been in Simon's own house and the Captain had a chance to see for himself how needy Jim was for Blair's touch and scent. That had been years ago - now Simon's first worry was how severe the spike had been and how long it would take his best team to recover.

Blair smiled at his boss and son now and Tommy hesitated before climbing up on the bed and snuggling in too.

"C'mon Uncle Simon," Tommy whispered and Simon rolled his eyes before sitting on the edge of the bed behind Tommy. Tommy frowned at him and Simon sighed, lifting his feet to stretch his legs along the mattress and leaning back against the bed head. Tommy grabbed for Simon's furthest hand and draped it over himself to lie on Blair's arm. Blair met Simon's eyes with a smile and Simon shook his head.

"Simon?" Jim's voice was slurred with sleep, and astonished pale blue eyes blinked at him from their place in Blair's neck.

"Feeling better Jim?" Simon knew not to raise his voice too loudly at first, just in case. Jim nodded and smiled at Tommy, getting a good morning kiss and then leaning back into Blair.

"What am I, a mattress?" Blair grumbled down at his friend and Jim snuffled into his shoulder.

"A comfortable one too," Jim teased and Blair sighed. His hands were still stroking random patterns on Jim's skin.

"I hate to interrupt this love-fest, but I'm hungry," he told the ceiling and Jim let go reluctantly. He was always loath to end the contact with his Guide after a spike.

"We can have pancakes," Tommy suggested, "Uncle Simon and I can make them. I've had my bath already Da!"

"Sounds good," Blair smiled, "Why don't you make them in our kitchen while Uncle Jim and I clean up?"

"Ok," Tommy wriggled free and pulled a smiling Simon after him. Blair pulled Jim back in for a final hug, then got up, grabbing clothes quickly and disappearing down the stairs. Jim tracked Blair all the way into Jim's own bathroom and then got up, borrowing the robe Blair had left behind to disguise his nudity. By the time Jim stepped from Blair's shower there was a pile of his own clean clothes on the wash basin.

Tommy and Simon were laughing in the kitchen while Blair tidied up. Jim grinned and opened the door, ready to face a new day.

0o0o0

"What about this one Da?" Tommy asked, holding up a very bright sweater in random patterns and textures; "It's pretty!"

Blair glanced over at the label. It was pretty, all right, pretty expensive. Tommy was holding a pure wool designer sweater from Australia.

"It's a bit hot to be wearing sweaters now sweetie, and Uncle Jim might think it's a bit bright," Blair replied neutrally, smiling when his son tilted his head thoughtfully and then nodded, putting the sweater back. Birthday shopping for Jim had never been more fun. Tommy came up with some very interesting suggestions and the whole idea of buying someone a present was so exciting to the child that Blair was wishing Jim could be here to see it too.

Due to start work in two weeks as a full time consultant, Blair was taking the opportunity to get Tommy settled in day care - starting with short stays and building up to all day sessions. Tommy would start preschool when he was five and kindergarten when he was six, which meant day care now and next year. Tommy was up to half days at the moment with Blair collecting him after lunch.

Miki Solanger was going to the same day care facility, which helped a bit, but the first week Tommy had been very distressed. This was the first real separation he'd had from Blair in the two months since his mother's death, and whenever Blair had been gone Uncle Jim had stayed with Tommy. Now, neither man was available and Tommy's separation anxiety had kicked in with a vengeance, requiring a lot of reassurance, comfort and support. This was Tommy's second week and he'd be graduating to full days tomorrow so Blair had decided to take him shopping for Uncle Jim today.

Tommy loved shopping. It didn't matter what they were buying - the whole idea of choosing something out and bringing it home was fascinating to the child who'd had almost no free will with his mother. Even grocery shopping was a treat.

Cascade Mall was crowded with teenagers just out of school and young mothers - so the noise was incredible. Blair would carry Tommy from place to place and his son would walk along while they browsed through the shop. Right now they were in 'Irene's Imports' and Blair was trying not to laugh at the mislabeled knick-knacks from Brazil. Tommy had chosen this store because of its bright display and was happily leading Blair all the way through it, scrutinizing everything carefully and chattering away happily.

"This is nice," Tommy pointed at but didn't touch the silk scarf, "He wouldn't wear that though. This is hard!"

"Maybe we could look somewhere else," Blair suggested and picked his son up when Tommy nodded. They headed back into the mall proper and Blair walked them over to the camping store. Tommy brightened immediately.

"Yeah!" he clapped his hands, "We'll really find something in here!"

An hour later Tommy found the perfect fishing lure for Uncle Jim, much to the relief of the sales assistant that had the thankless task of helping display them. Blair had grinned and guided his son as best as he could, but refused to hurry the choice or cheapen the experience. Tommy needed quality not quantity experience and Blair was determined he'd get it.

The card and gift-wrap was an easier choice - the store had paper with cop cars, badges and handcuffs printed on it and a card to match. Then they retrieved the joint present they'd chosen (a picture of Jim, Tommy, Simon, and William Ellison on the couch at the house warming party) and dropped at the frame store. Blair had already bought Jim's present - a couple of shirts made from a new micro-fibre that wouldn't irritate sensitive skin and were dressy enough for work in summer - and the fixings for the informal party they were holding in the loft the evening of Jim's birthday.

They headed back to the car happily with Tommy planning what to put in the card for Uncle Jim.

"You'll have to help me make the cake, too," Blair smiled, "We'll do it on Sunday when Uncle Jim is out. What day is his birthday?"

"Monday!" Tommy pronounced, "Day after Sunday!"

"That's right!" Blair praised, "You're a clever boy!"

"I am!" Tommy agreed and got a laughing kiss for his boast.

0o0o0

Blair slotted into his accustomed place at Jim's shoulder and tapped his hand to Jim's back once in their ready signal. They'd been chasing this particular example of walking pond scum for a week now, and had finally spotted him going into a small grocery store. Running a one-man protection racket was full time work and Paul Shore had been unable to lie low while the cops investigated him.

Little more than the neighborhood bully with a penchant for guns and malicious damage, Paul Shore had finally pushed one of his 'customers' too far and called the wrath of the PD - in the shape of Jim and Blair - down upon his head.

Jim had canvassed the area thoroughly, spotting all the signs of vandalism, strong arm tactics and general bullying, while Blair had canvassed the people and cracked that closed society open so they could gather the kind of testamonial evidence needed to royally nail Shore to the wall.

They'd worked smoothly as a team for the first time since the fountain and Jim couldn't believe how right it felt to give Blair free reign and do what he did best. The detective made a solemn vow to at least try to give his partner more room to work in the future.

Jim extended his hearing precisely, picking up the sound of Shore's voice as he threatened his way into the till. His sense of smell picked up stale gun oil - Shore had been carrying a weapon but wasn't at the moment - and Jim nodded over his shoulder at Blair before they went in.

"Cascade PD!" Jim snapped and Shore jolted away from the till.

"Hey man!" Shore protested, "I was just helping out! The till was stuck - right?"

The storeowner backed quickly out of reach and shook his head.

"He was threatening me," the owner replied and Shore swore loudly before heaving the till right off the counter and into Jim's legs. Jim went down with a cry, dropping his gun as the heavy machine pinned him down. Shore bolted for the end of the counter closest to the door and Blair grabbed a tin from a nearby shelf, throwing with deadly accuracy at Shore's knees.

The tin hit edge first and Shore went down, cursing. Blair was on him in a flash, snapping the spare cuffs he carried for Jim on, pinning Shore's wrists behind his back.

"Jim?" Blair cried, standing up quickly and ignoring the yelling about police brutality and law suits.

"Damn it - I think he broke my leg," Jim groaned and Blair hurried over to secure Jim's gun before pulling his phone and calling for an ambulance.

Blair looked at his watch anxiously and then at the door to the ER. Jim had broken his leg between ankle and knee when the register crashed into him. It was a simple break and the doctors were setting it now. With a bit of luck he'd have Jim home in time to go get Tommy. He kept up the low monologue of comfort to Jim, even though they weren't in the same room. Good thing the waiting room was empty at the moment or he'd be getting some very weird looks.

"What's the word Sandburg?" Simon asked as he entered the waiting room, "How's Jim?"

"Broke his leg," Blair said and shook his head, "Not badly - they're setting it now."

"First time you two are in the field after Alex and he breaks his leg?" Simon shook his head, grinning. Blair grinned right back.

"So who won the pool? I know that I was the favorite for a while there, especially after the grocery hold-up," Blair asked and Simon had the grace to look a little embarrassed.

"Hey, you know it's not personal, Sandburg," Simon met Blair eye to eye and Blair laughed.

"Simon - I know that!" he shook his head, "The Sandburg-Ellison pool has been around for years - if I was going to take it personally I'd have done it when I first found out."

"Oh," Simon looked worried for a second and then grinned, "Well, Rafe won the pool this time, maybe you can get him to cut you a share of the profits."

"Maybe," Blair glanced at his watch again and Simon frowned.

"Want me to wait for Jim while you get Tommy?" Simon offered, and Blair shook his head.

"I can't," he sighed, "The pain dial slipped when the paramedics touched him and took touch and scent with it. Leaving just isn't an option now. I'll have to take him with me to get Tommy straight from the hospital."

"How about I go get Tommy? You could call the day care center and let them know I'm on my way. I'll take him home and pick up some dinner on the way - how does Thai sound?"

"Fantastic, thanks Simon," Blair smiled gratefully, "If you go to the Green Bamboo on Prospect they'll give you our usual."

"No problem," Simon nodded and headed out.

0o0o0

Jim smiled at the woman sitting opposite his desk and thanked her for her statement. Being on desk duty with a broken leg meant he got to take all the minor statements for his colleagues and a lot of the paperwork too. Thankfully the cast would be off next week and he'd be able to get back to the streets.

Blair was on loan to Vice, teaching a couple of the detectives there how to work behind a bar. There was more to pulling a beer than sticking a glass under the tap and some of the mixed drinks could be tricky to…mix. Blair had worked behind his Aunt's bar one summer, so his talents were coming in useful. He'd also worked a bar in Cascade to do a paper in his under-grad days and was able to pass on a lot of tips about customer interactions as well.

Vice was trying to spot the source of a new supply of illegal blades coming into Cascade and word had it that the deals were being made in several of the bars around the city. Blair had even persuaded his former employer to let the cops practice on her customers - taking his turn behind the bar to 'show them how it's done'.

"How did you break your leg, Detective?" Jim's visitor asked, pulling him back to the present and he smiled at her ruefully. She was a beautiful woman - tailored clothes and discreet make up. Her name was Rachael Collins and she worked as an insurance lawyer for one of the largest firms in Cascade. She'd been in a gas station filling her tank while the till was being emptied and gotten enough of the registration number the would-be-felon had driven off in to be useful to Brown and Rafe in their case.

"Someone dropped a cash register on it," he shook his head.

"Ouch!" she laughed, "That must be quite a story! Perhaps you could tell me about it over dinner?" Rachael invited and Jim smiled.

"Would tomorrow night suit?" he asked - after all she wasn't his witness.

0o0o0

"Mmph!" Jim groaned as a solid weight landed firmly on his chest. Scent and touch immediately identified his nephew and Jim rolled, pinning the boy and tickling him mercilessly. Tommy giggled and wriggled emphatically - he loved tickle fights and Jim was always happy to oblige him.

"What are you doing up?" Jim asked when he'd reduced his nephew to a boneless puddle on the bed. Newly trimmed curls spiked in all directions, giving Jim a goofy grin as he leaned over his Guide's son. Simon had been surprised that Blair hadn't wanted to grow Tommy's hair long too, but Blair had shrugged it off. Tommy had been brushing his hair out of his eyes and exclaiming impatiently, obviously fed up with the long locks so Blair had taken him happily for a trim. They were father and son, but not a matched set.

"It's Da's birthday!" Tommy whispered and Jim craned his neck to look at the clock, swallowing a groan when he saw the time. The sun had risen eight minutes ago, but Tommy had been bursting with excitement ever since Jim had clued him in on the special day.

"Barely," Jim sighed, "If we wake him up now, he'll be too tired for his party tonight."

Tommy pouted and Jim immediately tickled the lip, getting a giggle.

"Don't, Uncle Jim!" Tommy protested, tickling back. They wrestled around on the bed for a moment before Jim managed to firmly wrap Tommy in his arms. They were both lying on their sides and it was promising to be a warm day. Jim lay still, letting his fingers stroke Tommy's hair and chest, listening to the boy's breathing slow and deepen back into sleep. Jim smiled lazily and closed his eyes too.

He woke when Blair topped the stairs two hours later. Blair was smiling and fresh out of the shower by the look of it. Dressed in a short sleeved shirt and jeans but barefoot, he was a picture of health and well being. Jim felt the sight lodge firmly in his memory as his senses took a 'snapshot' of Blair. It was such a contrast to the chilling memory Jim had of the fountain that he smiled at his friend. Perhaps this memory would replace the older one. Blair tucked his hair back and smiled too.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he whispered and Jim shook his head, looking down at the boy snuggled in his arms.

"He was up early?" Blair asked, reaching out to brush a wayward curl from Tommy's face and then brush his fingers over Jim's arm. He sat on the edge of the bed gently.

"Yeah - crack of dawn," Jim pretended to grouse, "Wanted a tickle fight."

"I've trained him well," Blair gloated, but Jim could see his friend was happy that the two important people in his life were getting along so well. Jim cracked a smile and Tommy stirred a little in response to their voices.

"Hey, short stuff," Blair coaxed, "Time to wake up."

"Da?" Tommy mumbled and opened his eyes. Jim let go when he felt Tommy tense and laughed as the boy bounced straight up off the mattress and into Blair's open arms.

"Happy birthday!" Tommy grinned and kissed Blair soundly on the cheek before burrowing into Blair for some serious hugging. Even after six months of steady affection and reasurrance Tommy still craved early morning hugs and petting.

"Is that today?" Jim pretended consternation and Blair rolled his eyes. Tommy sat up indignantly.

"Uncle Ji-im!"

"Uncle Jim is joking sweetie," Blair promised, "Like I didn't notice you plotting with him every chance you had," he added Sentinel soft. Tommy looked at his father seriously.

"Uncle Jim heard that Da," he reminded his father and Blair laughed. He hugged Tommy to him and then looked over at Jim. Jim sensed the question and nodded back amiably. Tommy was comfortable enough with him now. The Sentinel wouldn't scare him away.

"Do you know how Uncle Jim heard me?" Blair asked Tommy, who beamed proudly and nodded vigorously.

"He's magic! It's a secret - but Uncle Simon knows. I made him promise not to tell and he told me he knew when Uncle Jim was sick that time and he stayed the night," Tommy announced and Jim felt a huge smile split his face. Magic. Not different, not superman or a freak, just magic and therefore special. How did the Sandburgs know how to get past his defenses and straight into his heart?

"He sure is," Blair grinned, "A special kind of magic. And you're right, we can't tell anyone."

"Does it have a name?" Tommy asked - the child was big on naming things correctly. Blair had taught him some Latin in self-defense during a hike - naming as much flora and fauna by the Latin names as he could. Jim had added the Chopec names for a lot of it. Tommy had asked Miki's mother to add to the list in Japanese and was comfortably speaking several everyday phrases in that language too. At Blair's request Jim had started speaking the Chopec dialect to them both - to learn the language for himself, keep his son amused and keep a tie from Jim's first tribe alive.

"Yes," Blair nodded, "Uncle Jim is a Sentinel. That means he watches over the city and makes it safe."

"Is Uncle Simon a Sentinel too? He's a cop!" Tommy frowned and Blair shook his head.

"A Sentinel has heightened senses - he can see, hear, smell, taste and touch better than anyone else. Uncle Jim is a very good detective, and he uses his special senses to help him out," Blair explained. Jim felt another bolt of pure emotion - not a good detective because of the senses, a good detective with the senses. Blair slanted that special smile at Jim - the one that was the equivalent of getting a solid week of pampering and love.

"Oh," Tommy thought about it for a moment and then looked over at Jim. Jim smiled and held his arms out, grunting a little at the impact when Tommy threw himself over enthusiastically for the hug. Tommy sprawled on top of Jim comfortably and smiled at his uncle proudly.

"There's another part to the secret Tommy," Jim smiled back, "Do you want to hear it?"

Tommy nodded vigorously and Jim reached out a hand to draw Blair closer.

"Every Sentinel has a special partner to help them out. Sometimes things go wrong with my senses and I need someone to help me put it right," Jim began and Tommy bounced in excitement. Jim was glad he hadn't eaten anything yet, that bounce would have brought it right up.

"Da does that!" Tommy cried in delight, "He made you all better when Uncle Simon stayed over that time. And he always tells you what to do!"

"You guessed it," Jim smiled, "Da has a special name as well. In fact he has two names. The first one is Guide - and that means he looks after me while I use my senses to do my job. The second one is Shaman - which means…"

"Doctor," Blair interrupted, doubting Tommy was ready for a discussion of Shamanism and its place in modern society, "I make it better."

"Like my knee when I fell down?" Tommy asked and Blair nodded, reaching out to ruffle already wild curls.

"Sentinel and Guide," Tommy looked from one to the other, a little awed that the two adults in his life were so magical.

"When I grow up will I be magic too?" Tommy asked a little wistfully and Blair grinned.

"You're magic to me," he told his son and got a billion watt smile in reward. He shook his head a little at Jim - Guide genes or not, Tommy was too young to be burdened with that knowledge.

"Now, who wants breakfast?" Blair got up and plucked Tommy from Jim's chest easily.

0o0o0

Naomi looked up with a smile when Jim called her name. Her son's roommate was jogging towards her, grocery bags clinking as the bottles inside rattled to his fast pace.

"We ran out of soft drink," Jim said by way of explanation and leaned in to kiss her cheek hello, "How are you Naomi?"

"I'm well," Naomi smiled back, "Should I come some other time? I was just going to surprise Blair for his birthday."

"He'll be delighted to see you," Jim vetoed that idea, "And he'd be mad as hell if I let you go without at least saying hello. It's just a few friends and family."

Naomi wondered what Jim meant by that - she was the only family her son had in Cascade, and she was only passing through. He ushered her in, refused her offer to carry a bag happily and led the way to the lift and then down the corridor. He walked past his front door without pause and opened the door to 305.

"After you," he said with a smile.

"Did you move?" Naomi asked, "I was positive you lived in three-oh-seven!"

"Blair lives in three-oh-five now," Jim explained as Naomi stepped past him into Blair's half of their home. Simon spotted her first and smiled a welcome, waving hello and turning to look for his host. Naomi realised the gathering was mostly comprised of cops, though there appeared to be a few of her son's friends from the university by the kitchen. She wasn't surprised - Jim was a very dominant man and Blair such a giving person that he would be sure to invite most of Jim's friends to his own party.

"Chief! Your mother is here!" Jim called as he nudged the door shut and Blair came in off the balcony.

"Mom!" he exclaimed, "Hi!"

"Happy birthday sweetie," Naomi smiled and wrapped him in a big hug. She pulled back after a moment and swept her eyes over him, "You're a little thin, Blair. Have you been taking care of yourself?"

In the kitchen Jim snorted and kept putting the bottles away. Blair wasn't that thin - more like nicely muscled. He'd lost some weight after the fountain, but Jim had monitored things closely to ensure that loss was regained. Rachael shot him a curious look as she handed him the next bottle and Jim shook his head, shrugging. He went straight back to eavesdropping while Rachael headed over to the balcony to chat with Simon.

"I'm fine, Mom," Blair rolled his eyes, "Never been fitter! Where have you been - I've left messages everywhere for you!"

"I was travelling through Nepal for a while," Naomi told him, "Oh! I saw the most beautiful things there, sweetie. You should come back with me for a while. And I got your message - I just thought it would be nice to surprise you."

"Boy will you ever be surprised," Blair muttered under his breath, "Naomi - I really needed you to call; it was important. I was also worried."

Jim realised that Naomi hadn't been around to be told about Tommy and was about to learn of her new status as Grandmother. He swallowed back a nasty thought and headed over to mother and son.

"Hey Chief, why don't you take Naomi next door for a moment?" Jim suggested, cutting into Naomi's protests without a second thought, "I'll keep an eye on things here."

Blair's face softened and he touched Jim's arm gently.

"I know you will big guy. Don't open my presents ok?" Blair smiled and took Naomi's arm. He hustled his mother into the passage and ignored her startled sound as they emerged in Jim's half of their home. He was grateful Tommy had gone with William Ellison to the roof to look at the stars through the miniature telescope William had brought to the party with him. William had taught Tommy the 'star bright' wishing rhyme the last time he had visited and had opened a whole new avenue for Tommy's curiosity to follow.

"Detach with love, Blair," Naomi chided, "I can't believe you've let him open your house like this. And look at this place - it's as if you still live here!"

"I do, Mom," Blair retorted, "Jim and I still live together, work together, play together. So much has happened since you last spoke to me. It's almost been a year for pity's sake!"

"Sweetie, you know I love you…" Naomi began, sitting on the couch, but Blair cut her words off impatiently.

"I know, ok?" he forced a smile, "But this is one year I could have used some help."

"I'm here now," Naomi offered and Blair sighed. He sat next to her and took her hand, turning so he was facing her.

"Ok," Blair nodded, "First of all, Jim and I had an accident. I drowned. I'm ok now, but it was touch and go for a little while."

"Oh sweetie!" Naomi threw her arms around Blair and held him close. Blair had no intention of hurting his mother or 'outing' Jim, so he refused to go into details and made it very clear that there was no blame to be apportioned.

"Not long after that," Blair continued, determined to get this said and done with, "I heard about Amelia Milton. You remember her, Mom. You called her a materialistic witch."

"She was," Naomi protested. Amelia had not met up to Naomi's standards as a suitable companion for Blair - few of his friends did, Jim included.

"She died, Mom," Blair said it simply, "She left me her entire estate and something pretty amazing."

"Oh, Blair - you took it? That's how you can afford the new apartment!" Naomi looked disappointed and Blair laughed.

"Hell yes I took it. I needed the money to take care of my amazing legacy!" he replied and shushed her when she would have spoken, "You'd never in a million years guess what it is."

"Da?" Tommy called from the passageway and Blair let go of Naomi to stand up. So much for breaking the news gently - Naomi was about to meet the whirlwind that was her grandson.

"In here Tommy," he smiled and Tommy trotted in eagerly, holding his arms up to be picked up and cuddled.

"Did you see the stars?" Blair asked and Tommy bounced on his hip.

"Beautiful!" he proclaimed, "Poppy and I are going to make an expellition to them! You and Uncle Jim can come too, ok Da?"

"An expedition, huh?" Blair grinned, correcting the wrong word gently, "How will we get there?"

"On camels!" Tommy said firmly and Blair tried not to laugh, "Space camels."

Blair lost it, laughing hard and plopping onto the couch next to Naomi as Tommy giggled at his antics and bounced in his lap. Blair calmed down and smiled at the understanding on his mothers face.

"Tommy, I want you to meet someone very special," Blair told his son, "Her name is Naomi."

"Hello Naomi," Tommy leaned over and hugged Naomi happily, then settled back in Blair's lap. Everyone in Tommy's family was special and was therefore greeted with hugs and smiles.

"Naomi is a member of your family too, Tommy," Blair continued.

"Like Uncle Jim and Poppy?" Tommy's face lit up even more, and Naomi shook her head. No way was a pig going to be called family by her only grandson!

"Better than that - Jim isn't really your uncle, sweetie," she corrected, "Your dad doesn't have a brother."

"Does too!" Tommy said fiercely, "Da's brother is Uncle Jim! And Poppy is Uncle Jim's Da, so that makes him my Poppy! And Uncle Simon and Auntie Rhonda and…"

"Easy short stuff," Blair soothed, putting a hand up to cover his son's mouth. Tommy was shaking in anger and Blair hugged him. The child turned in his father's embrace, shutting Naomi out by turning his back. Blair hoped Jim would come in now - the Sentinel was certainly monitoring this conversation.

"My Uncle Jim," Tommy mumbled into Blair's neck rebelliously and Blair rocked him gently.

"Yes, he's your Uncle Jim and he always will be," Blair crooned, shooting his mother a dirty look. She looked as shocked as she felt and Blair sighed in despair. Jim's hand dropped onto his shoulder and he looked up sadly. Jim came around the couch and crouched in front of Blair, reaching out to tug on Tommy's short curls gently.

"Not better," Tommy announced firmly without looking around and Jim smiled. Any doubts the casual observer had about Jim's place in Tommy Sandburg's family would have been erased. Hopefully Naomi would realise this too.

"Hey, kiddo," he soothed, "It's all ok."

Tommy raised his head out of Blair's neck and grabbed the tugging hand firmly, holding on with determination as if he could keep his family together that way. Jim rubbed his thumb over Tommy's knuckles and returned the grip with a light squeeze.

"Lets try this again," Blair sighed and Jim smiled. His brother never gave up on anything or anyone.

"Do you remember that talk we had about Poppy? About how he was my Da?" Jim said carefully, "Well, Naomi is your Da's mother."

"Grandmother," Tommy spat the word out with venom and Blair shook his head at once. That word had no happy memory to go with it and he'd rather not tar Naomi with the same brush. She caught the negative reaction immediately and had the sense to sit still.

"No, Grandmother is in New York with Grandfather," Blair corrected firmly, "There are lots of other names for Grandmother too. Maybe we could pick one?"

Tommy shook his head and Blair bit his lip. The Sandburg temper was up and running strong now and it would take a lot to redirect it. Meanwhile he had ahouse full of guests and an early start at work tomorrow.

"Sweetie," Naomi smiled, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean you couldn't call Jim your Uncle."

"Is my uncle," Tommy insisted and Jim stood up, sweeping Tommy from Blair's lap and hugging him close. This called for emergency measures. Tommy wrapped his arms and legs around Jim tightly and Jim returned the embrace as hard as he could without hurting his nephew, squeezing a few times for emphasis and planting a kiss on the top of his head.

"I will always be your Uncle," Jim promised, "Nana didn't mean anything bad, ok?"

"Promise?" Tommy asked and Jim nodded.

"Sentinel promise," he whispered into Tommy's ear and Tommy's face lit up at the mention of their secret. He kissed Jim on the cheek and then deigned to kiss his new Nana too. Jim ushered everyone back into the other end of the house for presents and cake, hoping that tomorrow Tommy would be ready to visit with Naomi.

0o0o0

"What a disaster this week has been," Blair groaned, dropping into the chair next to Jim and handing over a bottle of beer. Jim sipped the bottle and stretched his feet to rest on the balcony rail while Blair curled up in the lotus position.

"It wasn't that bad, Chief," Jim commiserated, "Your birthday party was fun. Tommy rode his first bike at day care and your guys in Vice finally caught the 'Blade Runners'."

Blair groaned and shook his head.

"Brown and Rafe better not let the guys in Vice hear that," Blair said, "There will be hell to pay."

Jim chuckled and took another sip. Blair rolled his barely touched bottle between his palms gently.

"What am I going to do about Naomi?" the question was soft and painful. Jim didn't need to glance over to see Blair's head hanging down as he rolled the bottle back and forth.

"I don't know Chief," Jim sighed, "I thought she'd be ok with it all."

"Me too," Blair sounded very young and Jim sighed, dropping his feet to the floor and turning to face his brother.

"Ok, so they didn't hit it off at your party," Jim began and Blair's head came up sharply.

"Didn't hit it off! She tried to destroy my family! I mean sure, we're not related by blood but I thought she'd at least be able to accept that I'd found my soul mate. But no! She tries to tell me its some kind of dependency thing and I should bring Tommy to Nepal so we can all meditate together!" he blurted, "And that was in my home, while I had guests!"

"She said that?" Jim felt his jaw drop and took a hasty swallow of beer. Naomi had cornered Blair in the kitchen after the presents had been opened and he was gathering plates to cut the cake. Jim had only heard the last few words, just before Naomi left:

"Go say goodnight to your grandson."

Naomi had done that and gone. Blair had cut the cake and fooled happily with his friends and family before whisking Tommy off to bed - a sure signal for his guests to leave too.

"Yeah, she said that," Blair replied gloomily and took a pull at his beer, "We had lunch together the next day and she said she was going to detach with love."

"From what?" Jim asked, puzzled.

"Me apparently," Blair sighed, "I've become materialistic and covetous or something and…basically because I'm not dragging Tommy from one place to another with my new found wealth and raising him to be a free spirited wanderer like she did I'm a disappointment to her. At the same time, it's your fault. She thinks you're a bad influence on me."

"Good," Jim grinned unrepentantly, "I certainly try hard enough to corrupt you. I'll have you color coding your Tupperware before you know it."

"Uh Jim if you remember I broke you of that little habit years ago," Blair grinned back, before his face clouded over again; "I want my son to know my mother, Jim. I know I've made a family for him here - hell strictly speaking I'm the only real relative he has living in Cascade, but…"

"But that kid is loved by the people he's adopted. We're keeping him, Sandburg and that's final. We've developed an abiding tolerance for you, but Tommy is ours," Jim teased. Blair smiled and stuck his tongue out at Jim.

"He's stirring," Jim warned and Blair hopped up, walking back inside to check his son. Jim sighed and propped his feet back up.

Naomi had come over for dinner after her lunch with Blair. Tommy had been a little wary, but she had made no further attempts to discuss his family connections and Jim had maneuvered things so Naomi could read the bedtime story to Tommy instead of Jim or Blair. Jim had stayed in Blair's half of their home with his hearing turned down while Naomi and Blair went to his to talk. She'd left after a couple of hours and Blair had been very quiet about it when he returned.

Jim had gone out with Rachael the next night and missed the picnic at the park that Major Crimes was holding. Apparently Joel and his family had been there too, and Naomi hadn't really hung around for very long. Tommy had been too busy playing with Joel's children to notice and Blair had been pretty quiet.

Sage drifted up from the street and Jim sighed, getting up to open the door for Naomi.

"Jim!" she exclaimed, "How did you know I was here?"

"Good instincts," Jim shrugged, smiling a little and closing the door. Naomi looked around and shook her head.

"This place hasn't changed a bit," she sighed, "The chi energy is still wrong. Now Tommy is here you really should consider…"

"It's changed plenty, Naomi," Jim interrupted, "You're just not looking. See over there? Those are the pictures Tommy drew for me. There are new photos on the shelves of the three of us - and Blair's graduation program is there too. The afghan is new - we had to retire the other one. Blair's room is an office now instead of a bedroom, though the futon is still in there, made up as a couch. And I don't feel any negative energy here at all. It's home and welcomes me in every night. Blair and Tommy have a lot to do with that too."

"Jim," Naomi shook her head, "I realize that having Blair close by fills a need for you, but don't you think it would be better if he was free to move on? Your job is so dangerous and he's been hurt before. What will happen to Tommy if Blair is hurt?"

"I'll take care of Tommy," Jim replied immediately, "And if I'm unable to do that then Simon or Dad will step in too. I have Blair's Power of Attorney and he has mine. Simon and Dad are both named as temporary guardians should something go wrong, though I stand in loco parentis for my brother."

"He's not really your brother though, is he?" Naomi challenged, her eyes flashing angrily. She was determined to make Jim acknowledge this at least once. Her triumph was short lived.

"You're right," Jim agreed serenely, "But there is no legal term for soul mate."

A charged silence filled the loft, both of them glaring at each other. This was a worse delusion than the one Blair fostered.

"My son is no soul mate to you, James Ellison. You are a killer and…"

"Enough!" Blair's voice was harsh with pain and anger. He was pale and trembling where he stood in the passage and Jim could hear his heart racing.

"Chief, I'm so sorry…" Jim began but Naomi broke in.

"His name is Blair," she spat, "You're always making him the child!"

"Naomi, you will not come into our home and insult Jim," Blair's voice was final, "You will not come into our home and attempt to destroy my family in order to make your place in it greater. You cannot spend all your time in another country, out of my reach, and then be upset I didn't turn to you first. Jim is my brother and the other half of my soul. He is my son's uncle and playmate. His father is a part of my family. Our colleagues are family too. If you cannot accept that my life is here and I am happy then you have no place with us. Tommy will see as much of the world as he wants to, but right now I'm more concerned he has a stable and loving home with his family and friends close by."

"Sweetie," Naomi appealed and Blair shook his head.

"My name is Blair," he replied, "You're making me a child."

Naomi's face closed off and she nodded. She turned without a further word and left the loft, closing the door gently behind her. Jim almost levitated over to Blair and held his brother close as the bitter tears fell.

0o0o0

"Goodnight," Blair switched off the cell phone and Jim grinned over at him.

"Now there is something I never thought I'd see on a stake out. My partner phoning in a bedtime story to my nephew," he teased and Blair laughed.

"To your nephew and your bosses son. Daryl was listening just as hard as Tommy," he replied, "Anything interesting happen?"

"Nope," Jim shook his head, "Same old, same old. You should have seen Simon's face when you asked Daryl to baby-sit, Chief. I don't know who was prouder - Daryl that you trusted him, or Simon that you trusted his son."

"Simon shouldn't be surprised," Blair shook his head, "He's a great dad. If Tommy turns out half as well as Daryl has I'll be happy."

"Thanks Sandburg."

Blair and Jim both jumped in shock at the voice at Jim's window, and Simon looked at them in astonishment.

"Don't tell me I finally snuck up on you Jim!" he exclaimed and Jim scowled.

"I'm not looking for you round the clock, sir. I was focussed on the house," Jim growled and Blair backed him up with a nod. Even Sentinels had their lapses.

"Something come up Simon?" Blair asked and Simon nodded.

"One of my snitches was in the area. He thinks they're going to move their little drug lab from this house to a new location. If they try it tonight I want to follow them to the new lab," Simon told them. After a few minutes of contingency plans and banter he headed back to his post on the other end of the block.

Jim and Blair sat in silence for a while; watching the house and playing chess on the board Blair kept stashed in the glove box.

"So how's Rachael?" Blair asked after an hour and Jim grinned.

"Good," he nodded, "We're going to that new exhibition at the gallery this weekend. If it's interesting I thought we'd go back with Tommy."

"Cool," Blair moved his knight and looked over at the house.

"We had a scare a couple of nights ago," Jim offered, "A blow out. But she's ok…everything started up on schedule, so we were lucky."

"You don't want to be a dad?" Blair asked idly, not at all offended. Jim shrugged.

"I'm a little old to start that journey Chief," he replied, moving his rook, "And…I don't think we go together well enough to raise a child. I don't do one night stands, but I don't think I'll be marrying her either."

"But you are committed to her. You spend time together and your feelings for each other are real," Blair countered, "Like ours are."

"Chief, I'm more married to you than I ever was to Carolyn. And…I'm happier with you than I was with her," Jim confessed and Blair caught his breath. He reached out a hand, which Jim took, reaffirming their bond to each other.

0o0o0

"I can't believe you bought him a telescope Dad," Jim shook his head as he held the garbage bag open for William Ellison to deposit the wrapping paper in.

"He loves the star gazing, Jimmy. He'll learn a lot from it and it will do no harm," William replied, "Or is Blair angry?"

"No, he's not," Blair said from near Tommy's doors, "Just wondering what I'm going to do when I catch him using it to scope out the neighbors when he's a teen."

William smiled and looked at his son for reassurance. Jim was laughing softly and shaking his head. Blair looked around at his very trashed loft and sighed.

"Next time Tommy has a birthday party we're going to one of those children's party venues," Blair groaned, "Look at this mess."

"Wait until Christmas, Chief. You won't know the place," Jim teased as Blair started packing away presents. Blair groaned again for effect and sighed when William and Jim just laughed at him.

"I get no respect," Blair complained and Jim jeered at him heartlessly; "Can't you do anything with him Mr. Ellison?"

"Sorry, son," William shrugged, "Jimmy is a big boy now - too fast for me to catch and spank."

"Thank God," Jim rejoined equably. Jim and his father had developed a gentle relationship with each other over the past eight months. Tommy had broken the ice for them, and Blair had supported Jim's efforts to reach out to the man who had nearly estranged his eldest son.

"I heard from Steven yesterday," Jim changed the subject, "He'll be back home in time for Christmas."

"Good to hear," Blair said and took the full bag of trash away from Jim, tying it off.

"I was hoping you might all come to me for Christmas lunch," William hesitated, "I realize it's Tommy's first Christmas here, but I was hoping to see you all."

"You could come here," Blair offered, "Sally too. Steven was stopping by with his family, right Jim?"

"Yeah," Jim nodded, "You could spend the day, Dad. Get here early and make a real visit out of it."

"Sally is going to her sister this year, but I'd love to come," William beamed, "Does Tommy still believe in Santa Claus?"

"Probably," Blair laughed, "I haven't had a chance to discuss it with him yet. It's still a couple of months away, plenty of time to worry about it later."

"Uh…what about Hanukah?" William hesitated, "Will you be celebrating that?"

"Not celebrating as such," Blair shook his head, "I'll observe the days like I usually do. I'm not that devout, William. And Tommy was baptized Catholic. Jim and I will take him to Church on Christmas Eve with Daryl and Simon."

"Then we'll have New Years and a few months later it'll be our first anniversary of Tommy coming to live with us," Jim shook his head, "Time sure does fly."

"When you're having fun," Blair completed the phrase and smiled at his friend.

…End Glimpses…

0o0o0

…Begin Wilderness…

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	4. Wilderness

Wilderness

by Shedoc

Jim scowled at the man in front of him. His partner was vaguely surprised the guy didn't shrivel up and die on the spot, such was the venom in the Sentinel's glare.

"Excuse me?" he growled, "I don't believe I heard you correctly. I don't believe I just heard you tell me you gave our tickets back to Cascade to a couple of colleagues on vacation after my partner and I busted our butts to get here and testify in an open and shut case on three hours notice and two hours sleep!"

"Easy Jim," Blair's hands grabbed him and pulled him away. His friend's voice had risen from an incredulous tone to a full-blown shout. Sleep deprivation had muddied Blair's normally clear eyes and roughened his voice a little too, increasing the Sentinel's dissatisfaction with the world in general and the man from the DA's office in particular.

"Go outside and clear your head, partner. I'll deal with this," Blair continued softly, turning the reluctant man and pushing him towards the doors. Blair's hands were massaging Jim's forearms gently and Jim nodded, heading out slowly after shooting a warning look at their current cause of consternation.

"Ok," Blair sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Let's try this again. When can we get back to Cascade?"

"Um, you can wait for a commercial flight which leaves tomorrow night and arrives the day after, or I can charter a small plane for you guys to leave tomorrow morning - take you straight there," the scrawny man smiled in relief, obviously feeling the worst was over. The smile faded at the look Blair shot him.

"Accommodation?" Blair snapped. He was in no mood to be the reasonable one, he had a son waiting back home and a tired Sentinel to control in the meantime.

"There's a Holiday Inn - it's very good, four stars actually. I can get you both a room there for tonight."

Blair nodded sharply.

"Get the details of the charter flight over to the hotel by six. Book us in now and give me the address," Blair held out an impatient hand and watched the other guy scurry.

"This sucks," Jim grumbled as Blair joined him outside to wait for the taxi, "We get pulled off a fourteen hour stake out to grab a suit and some files and head out here to testify. Even though it's a case that we sewed up tightly on our end and the prosecution dropped the ball on. We go straight from the plane to the courtroom, save the goddamn day for them and then find out that some hokey little jumped up pipsqueak has slipped our tickets to someone else. You don't have time to say more than goodbye to your son, I don't have time to talk to Rachael and now we're stuck here for the night."

" 'Hokey little jumped up pipsqueak'?" Blair smiled, "Man, you are eloquent when you're riled!"

"I hang out with a Ph.D.," Jim grinned tiredly and Blair shook his head, stepping forward as the taxi pulled up. They got in and Blair gave the address before pulling his cell phone and calling home. He left a message for Tommy on the machine, which Jim had to butt in and signed off laughing.

"You sure you'll be ok in a small plane Chief?" Jim asked as the taxi pulled up and Blair let Jim pay before answering on the way to reception.

"I'd grow wings and fly if it got me to Tommy faster," Blair sighed, "Remind me to thank your dad for stepping in like that."

"Yeah, me too," Jim agreed and Blair signed them in. From the deferential treatment they were getting the 'pipsqueak' had passed on a warning about their tempers.

"He's been a real stand up guy for us the past couple of months," Jim continued, "In a funny way it kind of makes it easier to deal with all the crap from before."

"I can't tell you how relieved I was that you two could come together like you have," Blair let Jim open the door and pulled his tie off, followed by his leather jacket, suit coat and leather shoes. He draped his clothes on the bed near the window - knowing Jim preferred to sleep between him and the door. Jim had stripped down too; hanging his discarded clothes in the wardrobe while Blair emptied his trouser pockets into his ever-present backpack. Blair picked everything up and hung it away while Jim used the bathroom and was sprawled on his bed comfortably when his friend emerged.

"It just felt like it was the right time to try, Chief," Jim said as he sat on the edge of his bed, facing his friend. The hotel room was like any other - plain cream walls, dark carpet twin double beds with Aztec patterns on the quilts, a mini bar tucked under a counter that doubled as a dresser and the obligatory landscape picture on the wall. Lamps on the wall above each bed, a reverse cycle air conditioner that would undoubtedly make a lot of noise when they tried to use it.

"As long as you're happy, Jim. If it's ever too much you'll let me know won't you? I don't want to make things hard for you," Blair lifted his head to look at Jim who grinned and leaned over to flick the bottom of his brothers foot, making him yelp.

"Believe me, you'll be the first to know, Chief," Jim replied and got up, "You want to go out for dinner, or should we check out room service?"

"Room service," Blair replied, "If I don't get out of these rumpled clothes I'm going to shoot someone with your gun."

"Left it in Cascade Chief," Jim replied looking for the room service menu. Blair groaned and flopped back onto his bed.

Jim went for a shower while they were waiting and Blair put his shoes back on before heading out to the mall across from the hotel. He returned triumphantly just as Jim was emerging from the bathroom with a package of disposable razors, a deodorant stick, a 'travel' chess set, two plain t shirts, a couple of pairs of socks and underwear for them both. Jim grinned his thanks and disappeared back inside the bathroom for a couple of minutes, returning in clean boxers and a T-shirt.

"If the shirt irritates you, let me know, ok?" Blair cautioned and disappeared into the bathroom for his own shower. He found Jim sprawled happily on his own bed, watching the game on TV and heckling the commentary team. Room service arrived at the same time as an envelope with their flight details and they fell on the burgers and fries Jim had ordered for them both. Blair might be a health food junkie on a good day, but today had not been a good day.

The cell phone rang as Jim was putting the tray outside.

"Tommy!" Blair exclaimed, "Hey sweetie!"

"Hi Da!" Tommy's voice was loud and clear to Jim, "Hi Uncle Jim!"

"Hi Tommy," Jim called and then pounced, taking the phone from Blair and running to lock himself in the bathroom.

"I stole the phone from Da, Tommy," Jim ignored Blair's knocking, "Did you have a good day today kiddo?"

"Yep! Miss Truman read a story about camels today and I told her I rode one," Tommy giggled, "I'm going to take the picture in to show her tomorrow. And Poppy and I made dinner together."

"Is Poppy a good cook?" Jim grinned at the low voiced comments his Guide was making. The Sentinel could hear them, but the boy on the phone would not. That was for the best - it was not the sort of language his Guide's son should be listening to anyway. For a man whose voice could cut through the confusion of a recent crime scene, Blair sure could talk dirty when he wanted to.

"He is. We had ice cream for dessert and we're going to go look at the stars with my telescope tonight. We might even see Mars! That's a whole other planet!"

"Wow! When I get back you can show it to me too, huh?" Jim turned and opened the door, making shushing gestures. Blair was glaring at him, but humour twinkled in his eyes and hovered at the corners of his mouth.

"I will," Tommy promised, "Can I talk to Da now?"

"Sure can. Love you short stuff," Jim stuck his tongue out at Blair.

"Love you too Uncle Jim."

"Hi Tommy," Blair slapped Jim's shoulder lightly and went back to sprawl on his bed. Jim turned down his hearing so he could only hear Blair's side of the conversation and unwrapped the chess set. That done he took his own phone into the bathroom to call Rachael.

"Won't be long now. Uncle Jim and I just had to go on this very quick expedition, but we'll be back soon…. I miss you too sweetie…what did you do today? Yes you can take the picture to show Miss Truman. That sounds yummy…we had hamburgers…when we get back Uncle Jim can make some with you, ok? Love you Tommy. Yes I promise. See you soon, ok? Sleep well sweetie. Bye."

"Why didn't you tell him we'd be back tomorrow?" Jim asked absently as he palmed two pawns and held out his hands for Blair to choose. Blair tapped the right one and got the black pawn, before lounging on the bed next to Jim. The TV was a low murmur in the background as they made their first moves.

"I'm not sure," Blair shrugged, "He likes surprises - we'll be home before he is."

0o0o0

"You have reached the phone of Sandburg, Sandburg and Ellison. Please leave a message after the beep…"

Hi Tommy it's Da!

And Uncle Jim!

Shhh Jim! Just ringing to say hello!

Hello! Hello! How are you?

You can call on my cell phone after dinner.

Make him eat brussel sprouts Dad!

I'll make you eat brussel sprouts in a minute Jim, now hush!

Dad! Blair's picking on me! Laughter and the sound of a hand impacting lightly on someone's head. 

Talk to you soon, ok?

Bye short stuff!

Bye Tommy!

Bye Dad!

click 

0o0o0

Jim looked over at Blair who shrugged and moved his knight. Their suit jackets, coats and Blair's bag were piled on the seat behind them, as the interior of the plane was hot. The pilot had explained ruefully that the heater only worked on one setting or not at all, and all three men had decided to be too hot.

"Checkmate," Blair told him and sat back to let Jim examine the small board.

"Thirty moves! Not too shabby!" Blair smiled at Jim who smiled back.

"Considering it's the longest I've lasted since we took off," Jim agreed, conceding the game and setting the board up again. He'd started the chess game in an effort to distract Blair from the flight and it had worked. Blair had focussed everything on the games - beating Jim in a couple of moves the first time out. This was their third game. Jim was no mutt when it came to intelligence, and had beaten Blair fairly regularly in their at home chess games.

"Let's take a break," Blair suggested and looked out of the windscreen at the sky ahead of them before looking down at his lap and settling back with his eyes closed. Jim tuned into his friend and put a hand on his arm to anchor him. Blair hated flying as a passenger - he'd once confided to Jim that he'd flown fixed wing planes when he was fourteen but hadn't kept his license up. His fear of heights was triggered when he wasn't in control of his position. Jim could relate - the Sentinel hated loosing control and Jim wasn't too fond of it either.

The plane shuddered - there was a cross wind that kept dogging them - and then the nose dipped down. Blair's eyes flew open and Jim looked at the pilot in time to see the man slump forward over the controls. Both men leapt forward.

"Chief get the stick!" Jim yelled and Blair took the co pilot's place while Jim pulled the pilot off the controls and back into the tiny aisle behind the cockpit. He heard Blair calling mayday as he struggled to right the plane and fought the buffeting winds. The pilot groaned and Jim realised the man was having a heart attack. He loosened the man's clothes and monitored the fading heartbeat while the plane dipped, evened out and dropped in the wind shears.

"Jim, I can't hold it!" Blair yelled, "We're off course and caught in a wind shear!"

"Can you land us?" Jim called; desperately hoping the answer was 'yes'. "The pilot's having a heart attack. We need to get him to help."

Blair swore and Jim hesitated before inching forward to look out and down at the ground. They were over forest - trees as far as the eyes could see.

"What the hell?" Jim looked over at Blair and grabbed the back of the seat for balance as the plane lurched and dove again before Blair could level it off much closer to the ground.

"We're way off course, Jim. I've got no idea where we really are. Best guess - Cascade is that way and Seattle over there," Blair fought the stubborn winds and growled in frustration, "That's the mountain you can see from the roof of Prospect over there."

"Chief, that mountain is at least a hundred miles away from home - we were testing my long distance vision that day remember?" Jim swore and looked back as the pilot moaned and then convulsed. Jim lurched back to the man's side as his heartbeat failed entirely. Checking to make sure his airway was clear, Jim began CPR. He heard Blair calling in again, trying to get directions to the nearest help and battling to keep the plane stable in the vicious winds.

"…Must have been off course for a while…" the phrase struck Jim's ears and he grimaced. If the pilot had been in trouble for a while there was no telling how long they'd been drifting off course. He checked for a pulse, failed to find it and returned to the chest compressions grimly. He had no doubts about the odds of reviving this man without some serious medical intervention - usually a heart attack victim was only revived successfully if CPR was followed by prompt and expert medical assistance, something they were far away from. Still, Jim knew he had to try - had to give the man every chance he could.

Then the engine stuttered. The frantic silence from Blair clued Jim in to how desperate things really were and he swore under his breath as he smoothly breathed for the pilot and then returned to the chest compressions again. The plane lurched and Jim grabbed for the seats for balance, ending up sprawled on his patient as the failing engine and rough conditions sent the plane dropping from the sky. Blair's voice began calling mayday again as he struggled to control the fall and give as much of a clue to their rescuers as he could.

"Jim!" Blair yelled, "Brace yourself! We're going down!"

Jim struggled to get up and secure himself in a seat - or better still get up and get to Blair's side, but the plane lurched sickeningly, throwing him off balance and across the pilot's body again. The world screamed in protest, spun and jolted and winked out as Jim's head hit the edge of the seat.

The sound of the crash sent birds shrieking into the midday sky.

Blair groaned and lifted himself shakily off the console. His head pounded like a second heart and he wiped the blood oozing down his face away impatiently. The plane had skimmed over the treetops and then fallen gracelessly into a clearing when the engine finally cut out after the last wind shear sent them plummeting earthwards. Blair bit down on a groan as his abused body registered multiple protests at moving and turned slowly, favouring just about everything, to look for Jim. He was so dazed he never even noticed his knee popping back into place as he twisted it loose from the wreckage.

The big cop was piled up at the rear of the small craft, buried under the pilot and Blair's backpack - the only luggage they had. Blair moved slowly but surely towards his friend. What would normally have taken him three quick strides took eight slow ones to reach Jim. The pilot was clearly dead - his eyes staring glassily at the ceiling, his flesh already cool. Blair grimaced and pulled the dead man gently to one side.

"Jim?" Blair husked and reached down to check for a pulse with trembling fingers. He sighed in relief when he found one and sat back slowly, his eyes searching over Jim's body for obvious damage.

"Looks like you broke your arm buddy," Blair commiserated, eyeing the ugly bulge beneath Jim's skin and stroking his face with fingers clammy from shock. The police consultant gently stroked over the rest of Jim's body, finding a knot on the back of his skull where he'd hit the seat but no other damage. Blair crawled over to the door and managed to open it before dragging the pilot outside with him and locating some suitable wood for a splint for Jim. The Guide eyed the torn pieces of fuselage idly and the severed wing with disfavour before climbing shakily back inside and setting Jim's arm. He used their ties, and strips of seat cover cut with his ever-present pocket-knife to bind the splint firmly in place, then made Jim as comfortable as possible on the floor, draping their coats and jackets over his friend to combat the cold.

Blair fogged out for a moment and came back to himself as his hands slowly scratched the pilots name, the date of the crash and possible cause of death into the surface of the severed wing. His writing was uneven as his vision ballooned and swam sickeningly. He had somehow managed to drape the wing over the top of the shallow trench he'd dug - or rather, enlarged from the furrow dug out by the plane as it crashed. The wing was now resting over the top of the pilot's shallow grave - the best Blair could do to see that the family had something to bury when help came. Blair stood for a moment, reciting a prayer from Buddhism for the pilot's spirit, and then turned to gather as much wood as he could find. Nights were cool if you were inside, cold if you were outside and they were definitely outside. He'd managed to dump the fuel when the engine cut out for good, turning them into a glider. There was no danger to them now if they had to light a small fire to get warm.

His next coherent moment entailed laying more wood on the small fire burning in a hastily constructed wind shelter near the open door. Jim was carefully positioned to catch the reflected heat and Blair's head buzzed painfully as he lowered himself to lie next to Jim. He appropriated his leather jacket from Jim's legs and snuggled into it, resting one hand on Jim's heart to track his friend's recovery. Someone - Blair wasn't sure whom - was talking in a low voice, urging Jim to find the dials and come back to them. As much as Blair wanted Jim to wake up he also wished the other guy would shut up so he could get some rest.

After a little while Blair thought he heard Jim's voice talking back to the other guy, but it didn't make much sense to him so he went to sleep. Let Jim and the other guy worry about things for a while. He was tired and his body hurt too much to stay awake.

For the man who'd just awoken, time seemed to crawl by at a snails pace.

Jim held his breath as Blair's eyes opened again. The last two awakenings had been dazed, incoherent affairs. Blair's head injury had made him disoriented and disassociated from his surroundings. One minute he'd be talking to his friend, the next he'd be talking to someone who wasn't even there.

Blair had evidently retained enough sense to use pieces of wreckage to make a windbreak for their fire, and he'd also set Jim's broken arm - an injury that was plaguing the Sentinel now. He needed to be mobile and a hundred percent in order to protect his Guide and contribute to their survival.

"Jim?" Blair moved his hand to check out Jim's heartbeat and he smiled gently. He'd wrapped Blair's suit coat awkwardly around his legs, sharing their clothing evenly to keep them both warm.

"Hey, Chief. You with me?" Jim asked and Blair blinked slowly.

"Sure, big guy, I'm right here," he mumbled and went back to sleep. Jim sighed in disappointment. It was an improvement over the last discussion they'd had, but Blair's disorientation was an alarming symptom of his head injury. Jim hadn't even been able to bandage the cut - which was thankfully small and in Blair's hairline. It had stopped bleeding by the time Blair's voice had eased Jim back to consciousness.

Jim had found a bottle of water in Blair's pack as well as a couple of granola bars, so they'd be ok for a day or so in the plane provided they didn't exert themselves. His hearing had spiked a little when he first woke and he'd heard a stream nearby, so they could replenish their water when they needed to.

Jim settled back into his own coverings and placed his hand over Blair's, pinning it to his heart. The knot on the back of Jim's head throbbed unpleasantly, but he didn't think he was in too much trouble from the head injury. His vision was clear and he could track events and movement with no problems. Hopefully Blair was not bleeding beneath the skull. Sentinel fingers had found no evidence of a fracture or depression: with a bit of luck and some rest Blair would be back to his normal self soon. Jim would just have to wait.

0o0o0

"You have reached the phone of Sandburg, Sandburg and Ellison. Please leave a message after the beep…"

Hi, Tommy, it's Uncle Simon. I hope you're behaving for your Poppy. Mr. Ellison, I need to talk to you … I'll be over tonight after dinner. About nine o'clock…I…I'll see you then…

click 

0o0o0

Blair opened his eyes slowly and sighed. He was cold, but not unpleasantly so. He reached for the doona and encountered hard floor instead.

"Huh?" Blair lifted his head and focussed his eyes. He was lying on the floor in a…plane?

"How the hell did I get here?" Blair mumbled and spotted a bottle of water nearby. He sat up slowly, feeling a little light headed and reached out, snagging the bottle and taking a small mouthful. A little of his memory returned - he and Jim had testified at the O'Donnell case and then had to spend the night in town, planning on taking a charter flight to Cascade the next morning.

Being a fairly intelligent person, Blair guessed this was the remains of the charter flight. If that was the case, where were Jim and the pilot? Surely Blair wasn't the only survivor? Panic bolted through him and he scrambled stiffly to his feet, cursing the knee that didn't want to support him and lunging for the door.

"Jim!" Blair yelled, "Jim! Where are you?"

He let himself down to the ground stiffly and looked around wildly. The wreckage had been disturbed - part of it to make a windbreak for the fire by the door of the plane and the wing …

With a sob Blair stumbled to the deliberately placed wing and leaned on it for balance, forcing himself to calm down and read the inscription scratched on there. It was a name he didn't know and the words 'heart attack' with a date beneath them. Blair breathed a sigh of relief and began to take slow breaths, calming his heart rate and clearing his head. Jim couldn't be too badly hurt if he'd buried the pilot, though his writing was terrible - worse than usual.

Blair felt dizzy for a moment and grimaced impatiently. He had to stay awake and find Jim. His knee throbbed hard in protest and Blair sighed - there was no point in wandering away from the wreckage to go looking when he had a Sentinel nearby.

"Jim, can you hear me?" Blair yelled, "Jim!"

Blair turned and limped slowly back to the fire, sinking down in the doorway thankfully and looking around again. He pulled on his suit coat and leather jacket before fishing a hair tie out of his pocket and pulling his hair back into a ponytail.

"Ok, Jim, I'm going to assume you can hear me, so as soon as you can, come back to the camp ok? I'd really like to see that you're ok," Blair said to the air and then added a little more wood to the fire. He rubbed at his knee slowly, trying to ease the fierce ache. He'd already found the cut in his hairline and realised that Jim had at least cleaned the worst of the blood off his face, though it was all over his shirt front. His body was also bruised pretty spectacularly, but no ribs were broken and apart from his knee everything else seemed to work.

"Blair!" Jim's voice shouted in the distance and Blair grinned in relief.

"Hey, Jim. Need some help?" he asked at normal level, getting ready to stand again.

"No!"

"Ok, I'll wait here for you, ok? Want me to keep talking?"

"Yes!"

"Not a problem. You know me, always ready to talk…shutting me up is the problem, right? Maybe you can answer some questions when you get here 'cause I seem to be drawing a mental blank on what happened. I remember testifying and that idiot giving our tickets away. I remember talking to Tommy and playing chess at the hotel, but that's it. I'm guessing we crashed - hey what a leap of deductive reasoning, right? Are you ok? You weren't hurt or anything? Did you really land the plane? How long have I been out? Ok, no more questions until you get here - and no I didn't hear you say that, but I know you well, Ellison, and I know you're growling at me."

Rapid footsteps approached and Blair straightened a little, grinning as a very dishevelled Jim hurried into view, dangling a rabbit from one hand. The corpse was dropped to one side of the door as Jim knelt next to Blair, looking up at him anxiously.

"Chief?" he asked tentatively and Blair reached gentle hands to the splinted arm, frowning.

"You broke your arm?" Blair sympathized, "Are you ok?"

"Yeah," Jim dismissed the injury impatiently, "How do you feel? I've been frantic with worry, Chief!"

"I'm fine. Compus mentis once again. I've been out for a while?" Blair leaned over for a gentle hug, easing the tension vibrating through Jim's frame.

"A couple of days," Jim confessed, leaning into the hug a little like Tommy would have, "You kept waking up and talking to someone else. You never made any sense. I was scared your injuries were worse than they appeared. I couldn't keep you awake."

"Hey, a bad concussion will do that," Blair soothed, "I'm sorry I scared you big guy. I'm ok now. My knee is a bit tender, but otherwise I'm fine."

"I think it was dislocated," Jim stroked his fingers over the knee in question lightly, "You hung in there for a while after landing the plane. You came to before I did and set my arm and buried the pilot. You made that windbreak and lit the fire, then lay down next to me. I came to as you passed out. You had your hand over my heart."

Blair rubbed his hand gently over Jim's shoulder, sitting still and letting Jim release the tension he'd been carrying since he came to.

"I got you to take a little water each time you woke up, but you were so disoriented. One time you woke up convinced Tommy had died - you were screaming and crying…I had to restrain you," Jim leaned his head on Blair's chest, "You've been so quiet the last day that I took the chance to refill the water bottle and set a few snares. I was checking them when you woke up. For a moment I thought you were still out of it - I came back as fast as I could."

"I know," Blair smiled, "I freaked at first - I thought you were dead - but it's ok. Once I realised that the pilot was buried there and not you I figured you were nearby. It's why I shouted, I knew the Sentinel would hear me."

"Useful for something at least," Jim grumbled and Blair cupped his other hand over the back of Jim's neck, pulling him closer.

"Don't be angry that you couldn't tell what was going on inside my head," Blair guessed right, "Your senses don't make you omniscient. I'm sorry you were alone for so long. We're ok though, a bit banged up maybe but nothing that won't heal."

"Yeah," Jim sat back and squared his shoulders, as if shrugging off the worry and tension. Blair smiled at the very typical gesture and looked around the camp again.

"So now what? Do we wait here for rescue or try to walk out? Any idea where we are?" he asked and Jim got up to retrieve the rabbit. He pulled Blair's knife from his pocket and selected the large blade absently.

"We should probably wait here a few more days, Chief. There's water and hunting here, and the plane wreckage would be visible from the air. If there's no sign of a search in a few days time we'll think about it again. Besides, your leg isn't ready for much travelling and to be honest my arm bothers me a little," Jim confessed to the rabbit and Blair nodded.

"Ok," he agreed, "Hand dinner over and I'll gut it."

"No, I'll do it," Jim protested, "We could use more wood though, if you're up to it."

"If you're sure," Blair got up, steadied himself and moved slowly away into the clearing. A thought stopped him and he turned back to his friend, "Hey Jim, what's the time?"

"Late afternoon," Jim replied, "My watch stopped in the crash and yours is god knows where."

"Tommy stepped on it by accident just before the stakeout," Blair limped away to the edge of the clearing, "I left it at home."

"Was he upset?" Jim called as Blair moved into the tree line. Blair's voice came back to him easily as his hearing flared out to track his friend.

"Yeah he was. I promised to let him help me pick a new one out when I got home. You have to come too, Jim. Apparently your magic is needed to find the perfect replacement," Blair sounded amused. He kept talking to reassure Jim as he collected dead wood for the fire, "I was planning to go on our next weekend off if you're not busy. I know you were planning to go away with Rachael next chance you had, so let me know ok? By the way, Simon was asking if we planned to join the softball team again this year - he's trying to get the Major Crimes team organized before the season starts. He might have a little trouble including me though - Vice and Homicide have both asked me the same question. Apparently because I consult with all the departments I'm eligible to join their teams as well. I never thought they'd want me around after hours though. I told Simon we'd get back to him - I'd rather join Major Crime's team, but I don't want to alienate anyone. Major Crimes is my unit after all, but this is a big deal in a civilised society - it's an important sign of acceptance. Speaking of which, your Dad wants us to come to the Ellison Foundation Annual Family Picnic this year. Steven will be there with Alice and the kids apparently, and William thought you and Tommy and I might like to come too. It's not for a few weeks though, we've got some time if you want to make an excuse."

"Sounds good to me Chief," Jim looked up as Blair limped slowly back into the clearing, his arms full of fuel for the fire and his face a little pale and sweaty. Jim frowned and stood, leaving the rabbit to its own devices as he hurried over.

"You ok?" Jim put his good arm around the other man's waist, "How did you manage to sound so normal when you obviously feel like crap?"

"Jim, if there's one thing being a Guide has taught me, it's how to control my voice for my Sentinel," Blair grinned, "I knew you weren't listening to my vitals so that wasn't a concern."

They were back by the fire and Jim helped position the firewood carefully before Blair lowered himself to sit on the ground. Jim went back to cutting the meat off the rabbit and skewering it to be cooked in the flames.

"In a way this is a perfect time to get some training in Jim. We're back at primitive conditions and struggling to survive. Sentinel and Guide living off the land and depending on each others skills for survival," Blair mused.

"I depend on you in Cascade too, Chief," Jim looked up, "And you can't say we don't have our struggles back home on the job."

"True," Blair sighed and looked away, "Do you think Tommy is ok? I mean, I know your Dad is looking after him, really, I trust William a lot, but is he ok? What have they told him?"

"I don't know Chief," Jim sighed, "But Dad will stick to him like glue - you know that. We'll just have to make it up to him when we get home."

0o0o0

"You have reached the phone of Sandburg, Sandburg and Ellison. Please leave a message after the beep…"

Jim? It's Rachael…I heard…call me ok? I'm worried…

click 

0o0o0

After five days and no sign of search parties or rescue Jim and Blair decided to walk out. Blair scratched their intentions on the wing of the plane, beneath the pilot's details.

Jim had wrapped Blair's knee for extra support, using strips cut from the plane seats. They'd stripped everything that could be useful from the plane's interior and put it in Blair's pack, which they would take turns to carry. Blair had managed to get Jim to agree to tuck his broken arm inside his jacket for extra support. They both agreed to take it easy and not force the pace.

The plan was to walk during the day, stopping late afternoon to set snares and a campsite for the evening. In the morning they'd clear the snares for that day's rations, eat a fairly large meal for energy and keep hiking. Blair was hoping to spot some edible plants as they moved and Jim was going to track the streams for them so they'd never be too far from water.

"Of course, it would be a better plan if we knew where we were going," Jim mused as he watched Blair scratch the words deep enough to outlast the weather for a while.

"That's why we need to get above the tree line tonight for a little while," Blair looked over at Jim, "We can use your senses to locate the nearest settlement and head towards that."

"Why wait until tonight?" Jim frowned and Blair got up stiffly. He was moving better after five days of comparative rest. He limped over to Jim and smiled. The improvised knee brace was helping and Blair was hoping he'd be able to keep up. Jim was plotting to need plenty of rest breaks.

"The city will send a fair amount of ambient light into the atmosphere," Blair grinned, "Like a glow. You'll be able to pick that up and use it to set a direction for us to travel in. You should also be able to pick up the pollution haze that hangs over Cascade too. There are bound to be towns between here and there, and as we get closer to them you'll be able to find them with your senses. We'll scan each night to check our progress."

"Makes sense I guess - no pun intended," Jim grinned and Blair rolled his eyes, "Where does the tree line end?"

"I'm hoping you can find that too," Blair sighed, "If I got a good look at the area before we crashed I've forgotten it. Sorry, big guy."

"Don't be," Jim put a hand on Blair's' shoulder, "You took care of me and the pilot until I woke up. Seriously, Chief, you only let go when I came around."

Blair nodded and looked down at the wing lying over the pilot.

"It feels kinda wrong to just leave him here. I know we can't carry him with us, but…" Blair trailed off and shook his head to clear it, "C'mon Jim, I want to find the tree line before it gets dark. No point in taking the trip in the dark both ways."

"Maybe you should wait here and I'll do this. Give your knee some more rest before tomorrow," Jim suggested and Blair shook his head.

"After that blow to the head I'm worried that you'll zone. You know you're more prone to it after you've been hurt. If you zone without me nearby you'll never come back. Besides it'll be good practice for tomorrow," he vetoed that idea quickly and Jim resigned himself to giving in. Blair was right, he did zone easily when he was in pain and the ache from his arm just never quit. Blair didn't have any aspirin on him and there was no first aid kit on the plane.

"This way then," Jim sighed and started uphill slowly. He thought about what Blair had been carrying with him and glanced at the man limping beside him.

"Chief, what's that metal cylinder in your pack? It's got another cylinder in it," Jim asked and Blair grinned up at him before concentrating on his path again.

"It's an atropine needle," Blair replied, "You can get them for people with severe allergic reactions - you know like bee stings or latex."

"Why do you have one? How come I never noticed you had an allergy like that?" Jim frowned. After four years surely he'd have noticed Blair having a life threatening reaction.

"It's not for me, Jim, it's for you," Blair explained, "There's one in your desk, one in the loft and Simon carries one in the glove box of his car. I never know how severe your reactions are going to be - you've stopped breathing on me before."

Jim reflected how typical it was that Blair would anticipate this problem and take steps without telling Jim his worries.

"So for the last four years you've been carrying atropine for me?" Jim shook his head, "How do you know I won't be allergic to that?"

"You weren't when the paramedics administered it that time," Blair replied, "And I've only been carrying it for three and a half years. I've used it on you once myself, and you were ok then too. It's ok Jim, I know what I'm doing with it and Tommy knows not to touch it."

"You take good care of me Chief," Jim smiled warmly and Blair smiled back and shrugged.

"So are we heading anywhere particular or just uphill?" Blair changed the subject and Jim was happy to let it go. He'd been reaching the edge of his 'touchy feely' limit too.

"There's a kind of rocky outcrop up there - I've gotten glimpses of it the last few days. If I get up on top I'll be above the trees," Jim pointed in the right direction out of habit and Blair nodded back, accepting that Jim was looking at something that Blair wouldn't be able to see for another few miles.

Blair put his head down and followed along after Jim, struggling to keep his breathing fairly even as his knee protested every step. From the hunch to Jim's shoulders the broken arm was protesting the movement too, and Blair sighed, lurching forward to latch his hand on Jim's hip. Jim slowed even further and they walked along slowly. The taller man's shoulders straightened a little and Blair smiled to himself - somehow the simple act of connecting through touch eased Jim's pain every time.

"Here it is," Jim stopped and Blair groaned when he realised what he'd have to climb.

"Great. Are you sure your sprit animal isn't a goat, man?" Blair shook his head at the jumble of rocks jutting from the side of the mountain, and Jim laughed unhappily.

"You could stay here while I climb up, Chief," he offered. Blair's face lit up in memory and he nudged Jim's hip gently.

"Would you think less of me if I took you up on that offer?" he grinned and Jim reached out to ruffle his hair.

"I'd probably think you were some spineless self serving goober," Jim's voice was solemn and Blair sighed.

"I can live with that," he shrugged, "C'mon Jim, I'll give you a hand."

He stepped up to the lowest part of the jumble, braced his hands at shoulder height and dragged himself up, kicking with his good leg for a foothold.

"You're tenacious, Chief," Jim shook his head and followed.

"Stubborn too," Blair grunted and Jim huffed in laughter.

"Seriously Chief, will you be able to get back down in the dark?" Jim followed the other man's lead as they scaled the rocks and Blair stopped to look back at him.

"I'm taking the easiest path there is Jim, and between my night vision and your night vision we should be ok. Now can we do this?"

"You're grumpy when you climb rocks," Jim mumbled and Blair chose to go with a mature response - he stuck his tongue out.

They reached the top with a sense of accomplishment and settled down together to watch the sun set over the forest. Twilight faded to true night and the moon rose slowly. Jim took the opportunity to send his senses far and wide, relying on Blair's arm and leg pressed against his to anchor him to his body. Jim didn't 'fly' often - the experience was exhilarating but also disconcerting. He had tried to explain it to Blair, but didn't know enough words to convey all he wanted to say.

After a while Blair stirred, taking a deep breath like he was surfacing from a deep sleep and Jim stirred too, stretching and grinning at his brother.

"Ready to find Cascade?" Blair asked and Jim nodded, "Ok, so what you need to do is scan the area in front of us. Separate it all into light and dark. Look for a glow, or a haze above the tree line. That's where home is. Once you've found it mark the direction in your memory - make a snapshot of it with your senses so you'll recognize it tomorrow. Don't stretch out to the city, I'll lose you. Take some deep breaths and relax for me, ok. When you're ready, begin."

Jim took a deep breath and let his eyes scan across the view in front of them, separating everything into light and dark. After a few minutes he found the glow and took the snapshot as Blair had taught him - a mixture of mnemonic training and mental imagery designed to work best with his senses and psyche.

"Got it," Jim grinned and looked at Blair, before returning to the glow unerringly. He knew he'd have no trouble finding their way tomorrow.

"I know that as your Guide I should be used to this but…you amaze me every day man. You truly are a fantastic person," Blair grinned back, shaking his head. Jim laughed - a joyful sound and Blair just grinned back, his eyes sparkling in the starlight.

0o0o0

"You have reached the phone of Sandburg, Sandburg and Ellison. Please leave a message after the beep…"

Mr. Ellison? It's Mark Lucas from the firm. I've looked into that matter for you and you are correct. You have clear joint custodial rights with Mr. Banks in the matter you raised with me. I have some documents to review with you but I feel confident there are no legal obstacles to the action you have proposed. The lady in question will find it very difficult to pursue her case in court as it clearly violates the stated wishes of the party concerned. Please contact me at your convenience…

click 

0o0o0

Blair pushed his hair back off his face and tied it back again absently while he watched Jim drink from the stream, doubled over so he could use his good hand to scoop the water up. Jim froze for a moment and then he groaned, sitting up.

"Jim?" Blair scrambled over rapidly, reaching out.

"I'm ok," Jim fended him off, "I just saw breakfast swim by."

"Don't do that!" Blair exclaimed in relief, swatting at his partners' shoulder and sagging to the ground, "Get me a pointed stick and I'll catch it for you."

"Really?" Jim got up quickly, and Blair grinned, pulling off his shoes and socks before taking off his trousers, jacket and suit coat too. He got up and waded out into the cold water gingerly. Jim tossed him a straight stick that he'd quickly carved a point into and Blair widened his stance carefully. The icy water gripped the swollen heat of his injured knee and he sighed in relief.

"Feels good, huh?" Jim sympathized, "I knew we were pushing you too fast. Please Chief, take today off ok?"

Blair shot him a level look and Jim held his hands up in defeat. He knew that Blair didn't want to leave Tommy alone any longer than he had to - even though William Ellison and Simon Banks would take the best of care of their charge.

Blair became still and centred, standing up to his thighs in the water, one hand stretched out for balance the other poised with the stick come fishing spear. It wasn't as nicely balanced as the Cree spear that Jim loved to tease him about, but he could compensate for that - especially as it meant a change in diet from rabbit and the fall foliage that Blair had managed to find.

Jim had gathered wood for a fire by now and kindling too. He used the lens from Blair's glasses to start the fire and pushed a fairly flat rock into the fire to heat it. A sharp movement from Blair made him look up and after a moment Blair flicked the fish he'd caught up onto the bank. Jim grinned but stayed quiet as he hurried to kill the flopping meal and gut it with Blair's ever-useful knife.

Both men were almost unrecognisable now as their clothes showed the wear of the last few weeks. They were both tanned lightly from constant exposure to the sun and elements. Jim's one sleeved suit coat - cut by Blair to set his arm after the crash - was tattered and frayed around the edges and cuffs. There was a tear in the knee of his trousers and his brown leather coat was discoloured in patches from the abuse it was taking. Jim was bearded pretty heavily - they needed the razors to do more than shave and neither man was too bothered about deodorant.

Jim was secretly enjoying the opportunity to breathe in Blair's scent without having to stretch his senses.

Blair's clothes were not much better off, though his suit coat was still intact. He was liberally splattered with mud and the elegant leather shoes he'd brought to wear with his suit were falling apart under their harsh usage. The socks he'd draped over the shoes were rapidly developing holes, but there was no danger of blisters as Blair's feet and the shoes were well moulded together by now. Blair's beard was also growing in - combined with the long hair Blair looked like the stereotypical mountain wild man.

A second fish landed on the shore and Jim prepared it quickly, laying them both on the flat rock, to sizzle and spit as they cooked.

"Coming out Chief?" Jim checked the fire and looked over at his friend, who gently shook his head and made an abortive lunge with the spear. Jim used the time to put a sharper edge on the knife with the small piece of whetstone that Blair had been carrying around too. He'd been unable to explain why he carried the thing: 'it's useful' was all Blair had to say with a shrug and Jim had grinned.

Most of the things Blair carried in that pack came under that category. When Blair was with Tommy toys, books and healthy snacks were added to the pack, but Blair had dumped them out in favour of the reports and his usual in-the-field-with-Jim kit. The reports had stayed at the crash site, carefully placed out of reach of the weather and any inquisitive wildlife. Jim and Blair had both added letters to the files - writing on the backs of the pages - for Tommy and their friends. Should the plane be found before they were at least their friends would have some idea of what they were trying to do.

A third fish landed and Jim used one of the knives they'd made from the razors to gut it, not wanting to blunt the bigger blade in Blair's knife again. Their meal was almost ready, but Jim held off cooking the third fish yet. It could cook while they ate the first two, and be ready for them then.

Jim stretched and looked around at the beauty that surrounded him and his Guide. Early morning sunlight slanted down through the trees and touched everything with a gentle glow. The leaves on the bushes were turning and the gentle rippling of the water added a hushed quality to the natural sounds that surrounded the two men. Jim reflected that after hiking through it for three weeks he'd trade it all in for an ugly mile of city streets and a taxi somewhere in that mile. A fourth fish landed and Blair waded slowly out of the water to sit by the fire. His knee had refused to settle - constantly aggravated by the hiking they did every day to get home. On the other hand, Jim's arm was improving slowly - it itched now instead of aching and he could use the hand without enduring too much pain - more discomfort than anything else.

Blair let the warmth from the fire counteract the cold from the water, keeping his knee stretched out to the side so it wouldn't heat up too. Jim prepared the last fish and then 'dished up' the cooked portions onto some more rocks. He and Blair fell on them ravenously, devouring huge mouthfuls and grinning at each other over the fire.

"Thank God I didn't let you give up on that pointy stick, Sandburg," Jim teased for the heck of it and Blair almost choked on his mouthful. He glared across at his laughing Sentinel and rolled his eyes, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Oh yeah, Jim, you're a legend," Blair drawled and took another mouthful, "So how far are you planning on today?"

"Same as yesterday, Chief - this particular stream bends like an 's'. We can make it to the other curve today and spend the afternoon fishing. If the snares were lucky last night we can have a real blow out. It think there are also some blackberry bushes up ahead - I can smell them," Jim replied and Blair nodded, swallowing.

"Your control has improved again," he noted, "You've really isolated that scent well."

"I had motivation," Jim smiled wryly - potential starvation was a great motivator to learning new skills. Blair acknowledged his point with a nod and accepted his second cooked fish.

Once they'd killed their fire entirely and emptied and taken down their snares - it was cruel to leave them up and wasteful of the materials needed to construct them - Jim led Blair through the water carefully. They dressed on the other side - wet clothes were not to be tolerated this far from civilization - and Blair followed Jim along the path the Sentinel chose to forge. He was not unaware that Jim chose the easiest terrain for his leg to travel and smiled to himself.

Blessed Protector strikes again, Blair mused and hitched his pace up a little, wanting to get to the halfway point so they could have a break. Jim moved a little faster too, acknowledging the urgency Blair felt to get home.

They walked along in silence. The first week, Blair had talked non-stop in an effort to distract Jim and himself from the pain of walking. By the second week both men had become inured to the pain and conversation had been desultory, but not disinterested. Now they barely needed to speak to know what the other was thinking as they walked along. Gestures, nods and the occasional noise sufficed.

They were too comfortable with each other's personality and habits for the silence to be a burden. Jim treasured the friend that knew him so well without speaking - Blair treasured the companion that accepted him without reservation or judgement.

Tommy weighed heavily on Blair's mind at night - would his son be happy? Was he safe and loved? Even though Blair knew Simon and William were fathers with more experience than he in raising a child Blair fretted that his son wouldn't let the two men close enough to supply his needs.

0o0o0

"You have reached the phone of Sandburg, Sandburg and Ellison. Please leave a message after the beep…"

Hi Tommy, it's Uncle Joel. How would you like to come for a sleepover tonight? Simon, we've got action on the Bolt case. If you don't mind, Tommy, I'll borrow Uncle Simon for tonight and you can come over and take care of Auntie Mary and the girls for me while I'm away. Let me know what you two decide, Simon. Bye…

click 

0o0o0

The sound had been teasing the edge of Jim's mind for a few days now, but Blair had been unable to help him isolate it. It was sporadic and varied in volume, pitch and proximity. Jim was certain it wasn't a danger to them, but couldn't say what it was.

They had passed through a rough patch a few days back and Blair had fallen, re-injuring his knee. He was using a walking stick that Jim had fashioned for him to try and take some of the weight off the injured joint. Not long after the noise had started teasing Jim's ears and he'd altered his course a little to take them closer to it. Blair couldn't hear the noise at all, which meant Jim was listening at a Sentinel level, not a Guide level.

When they stopped for the night now Blair sat his knee in the running water for short periods after they'd constructed their snares in an effort to get the swelling back to a manageable level. The fresh pain had left its mark on his face, carving deep lines around his nose and mouth. Jim hovered as unobtrusively as possible, which meant he was all over his friend until Blair told him off with a look or gesture. This earned Blair a short reprieve of about thirty minutes or until he stumbled, whichever came first.

"Want to try fishing again this afternoon?" Jim asked as they neared their camping spot for the night. The two men had been incredibly lucky in their water sources - there was fresh water every day and neither had run the risk of dehydrating through the daily exercise.

"Sure," Blair nodded, wiping some sweat free from his face, "It'll let me give my knee a long soak too."

Which was why Jim had suggested it - as Blair knew full well. He shot Jim a grin and the other man shrugged. Jim left his partner at the edge of the stream while he went to set the evenings snares and forage for whatever edible plants were around. Blair usually found quite a few by the rivers edge, and while the Sentinel wasn't too keen on raw roots it was better than weakness caused by an unbalanced diet - man was not made to live by rabbit alone.

Blair managed to spear two fish and start the evening fire with the last of the sun rays and his glasses by the time Jim returned with his jacket made into a basket and full of blackberries. Blair had found some tuber roots, which he was roasting with the fish.

"Alright! Pig out!" Jim crowed and Blair laughed, settling back on his elbows by the fire. Jim put the berries carefully on the pack and shrugged into his jacket before sliding in behind Blair and snuggling close for the warmth.

"God I'd kill for a beer," Blair sighed, "Or a cushion…you're getting bony back there, Jim."

"We've both lost weight," Jim agreed quietly, "I'm starting to worry Chief. The pain is dragging you down and it's getting colder at night."

"Hey - we've lost fat but not muscle tone. My knee hurts, but I'm not dead yet and we'll be ok out here for a while longer. It's not that cold," Blair dropped his head back to look at Jim, "We couldn't have stayed at the plane Jim, so lets not start second guessing ourselves."

"I know Chief," Jim sighed, "It's just…we've been gone so long and never even seen signs of a search. I'm starting to wonder if anyone is looking."

"Maybe they're looking in the wrong place," Blair suggested, "Didn't you say you thought that the pilot had been in trouble for a while and we were off course? I probably didn't know enough about our location to tell people where to look and if things happened as quickly as you said they wouldn't have had a chance to trace our signal."

"Simon and Dad won't give up," Jim's voice was certain and Blair grinned, leaning forward to snag the cooked food.

"Neither will we," he promised Jim, "If I have to carry you out on my back I will."

Jim snorted in laughter and took his share of tonight's dinner.

The berries disappeared quickly and the two men settled down to sleep as they did every night, spooned up together close to the fire.

Blair managed to catch another two fish for breakfast and Jim revisited the berry patch. They'd caught another rabbit in their snare and decided to keep it for dinner. Once breakfast was over Jim filled the pack with berries and then helped Blair cross the stream and dress.

"I gotta say, Jim, I don't think we'll be camping any time in the near future," Blair grumbled as he bent almost double to retie frayed shoelaces.

"Amen, Buddy," Jim agreed, "I'm not going anywhere that involves roughing it for at least five years."

He steadied Blair, shouldered the pack - he'd taken responsibility for their one burden after Blair's fall and no argument to the contrary would persuade him to give it back - and moved out slowly. It wasn't just Blair's injury that slowed their pace now - both men were weakening slowly as their diet caught up with them.

The noise whispered at the edge of Jim's hearing and he grimaced in frustration. He felt as though he should recognize it straight away.

"Heard it again, huh?" Blair said knowingly and Jim nodded, then glanced back.

"How…"

"Body language, my friend," Blair shrugged, "And I could hear your teeth grinding. Let me remind you brother, that my doctorate is in Anthropology, not Dentistry."

"Great," Jim grumbled, "What kind of brother are you - at least I can fix a ticket for you. What can you do for me?"

"Stop people from beating your head in with a blunt object?" Blair suggested. Jim pretended to think about it for a moment and then nodded grudgingly.

"I suppose that's useful," he agreed and Blair laughed, a genuine happy sound that had Jim chuckling.

The ground was sloping gently away from them and Jim stepped back to Blair's side to take his free arm. Slopes were difficult for Blair - in fact just about everything was difficult for Blair at the moment but he never complained.

"Have I told you how much I admire your courage Chief? Most people would have quit on me by now. You take it all in your stride. And I don't mean your bum knee, I mean the Sentinel crap and the bad moods and the spirit guides. Most people would be encouraging repeated applications of a blunt object to my head, but not you," Jim steadied his friend and tried not to notice the pained gasp as Blair's knee tried to buckle under his weight again.

"Not courage," Blair insisted incoherently, "Just love. My brother."

Jim stopped their slow progress and pulled Blair into a hug. He felt the connection to his Guide open and basked in the simple and unconditional acceptance and love. Blair's head rested against his shoulder and his arms circled Jim's back naturally. Jim buried his face in the dirty hair and just let it all go, let the tension and worry and fear drain away to be replaced by the simple comfort that being close to Blair offered.

After a while they separated and Jim led them on.

0o0o0

"You have reached the phone of Sandburg, Sandburg and Ellison. Please leave a message after the beep…"

Hi Dad! Hi Tommy! I just thought I'd check in and see how you both are. Any word? Tommy is Dad behaving himself? I'll be there to see you both on the weekend. Alice and the kids are looking forward to the picnic - I hope the weather holds for it! See if you can make a sunny day for us Tommy!

click 

0o0o0

Jim froze and turned to Blair.

"That noise!" he exclaimed as Blair's hand latched onto his good arm and rubbed soothingly, "It's a car! The Doppler Effect! We're near a road, Chief!"

"Paved or dirt?" Blair pressed, his grip tightening in excitement.

"Paved!" Jim grinned, his hands waving for emphasis in a most un-Jim-like manner, "A real road!"

"How far away from it are we?" Blair tried to calm Jim down and watched him take a few deep breaths.

"A days walk. If we get to our camping place for the night then we can be at the road by tomorrow afternoon!" Jim looked at his brother anxiously and Blair let his own excitement show now that Jim had regained control.

"What are we waiting for then?" Blair stepped away and Jim laughed, keeping pace easily.

Only the fact that Blair's knee couldn't tolerate any more travel that day stopped him from travelling all night. Jim was quick to set up camp for them, rearranging a blackberry patch with windfall branches to form a crude shelter.

"Rain huh?" Blair sighed and started gathering as much dry wood as possible while Jim kindled the fire and moved off to set the nightly snares. He returned as Blair crawled stiffly into the shelter and hurried to join his friend. The close quarters meant they had to snuggle together and Jim took advantage of it shamelessly, making Blair laugh as he was treated more like a teddy than a grown man.

"I'll drop our dinner in the fire, Jim," Blair warned and Jim sighed, letting go of his friend.

"In some ways Chief, I think the Sentinel is as touch starved as Tommy was," Jim mused, and Blair glanced under his lashes at Jim. This was not news to the Guide.

"I mean think about it. Until you showed up and made it ok for the touching to happen I was a real hands off guy. Unless you made me mad," Jim's hand traced light circles on Blair's back, "Even Carolyn and I didn't touch each other as much as you and I do and I was sleeping with her. After you moved in I started touching everyone - pats to the back, slaps on the arm. No wonder people think we're a couple."

"Jim, do couples share a house? Do they share the chores, know what the other is doing every day? Do they raise children together and share financial responsibility for debts? Do they vacation together, hang out together, plan to spend time with just the two of them as well as with friends?" Blair shook his head, "Believe me Jim, we're a couple."

"So why aren't we sleeping together?" Jim asked curiously and Blair shrugged.

"We're heterosexual men, Jim, though in college I played around with guys too. Neither one of us feels the physical attraction necessary for sex," Blair rotated his skewered meat to cook it evenly.

"But I know you're a handsome man - look at the way the women chase you. And I love you Chief," Jim protested and Blair rolled onto his back so Jim could see his face.

"I feel the same way, Jim. We're just not that way inclined. Maybe in some of the infinite alternate worlds out there we do feel that way, but in this one we don't," Blair's smile was tender and Jim sighed, snuggling in for a moment then leaning over to take over the food prep.

"Just as long as we know who wears the pants in this marriage," Jim joked and Blair rolled his eyes.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that, Jim. The skirts you've been wearing are just too short. You're gonna get arrested if you keep going out like that," Blair retorted and Jim laughed hard, flopping onto the other man's chest and trying not to drop their dinner into the fire.

"We are seriously messed up here," Jim gasped and Blair grinned, rescuing dinner and patting his friend on the back.

They forced the pace the next morning, eager to end their impromptu hike-cum-survival-course. The road was a dual lane highway that snaked along through the trees quietly. They reached it in late afternoon and Jim decided it was best to sit and wait for a car to come along rather than continue walking. Blair pulled the crude map that he and Jim had been maintaining out and added the day's travel to it, knowing that Jim's decision had been based on the paleness of his face and the pain in his breathing. Jim settled in next to Blair and made comments to assist in the final notations.

They'd drawn this the first night in an effort to ensure that the pilot would be retrieved as well - he deserved a better burial than they had given him, and his family deserved the closure too.

Unwilling to chance their comfort if a car didn't come along in time Jim went back into the woods to collect wood for a fire and berries for dinner. Blair's excited yell had him running back in time to watch a car accelerate past his friend, who was standing on the side of the road, waving his arms.

"Damn," Blair cursed, "Not that I blame them - would you stop for someone looking like I do if you were alone in the car and unarmed?"

"I guess not," Jim glared at the retreating car, "With a bit of luck they'll report you though. Maybe the local highway patrol will come and check us out."

"Leave me the kindling and I'll get the fire started," Blair moved stiffly back to the fire pit he'd dug out with his walking stick, "Give them something else to report."

"Good plan Chief," Jim dropped what he'd gathered next to his friend and hurried back into the forest to complete his evening chores. He doubted that they'd catch much this close to the road - most wildlife preferred to live well away from civilization. He rejoined Blair as another car rounded the curve and ran forward, waving and yelling. The car tooted at them and kept right on going.

"Crap," Jim grumbled and plunked down next to his friend and the fire, "Maybe I should have waved the badge."

"Wouldn't make any difference, man. We just have to be patient," Blair grumbled, "Even though I'm seriously thinking of throwing rocks at the next car. We're so close to being home, Jim."

"I know Buddy," Jim stroked the back of Blair's neck, "If we're still here tomorrow morning we can walk along the road and try to wave someone down again. You're too tired to keep going tonight Chief, and I know you're in serious pain from your knee."

"I'd endure worse to be able to hug my son again," Blair mumbled to his hands and Jim squeezed the back of the neck he was stroking.

"That's another thing, Chief," he added, "We can't go home like this - we'll scare him to death. We need to clean up and let the doctors look us over before we go anywhere near home. We also need to call Simon and find out what they told Tommy so they can prepare him for our return."

Blair nodded without speaking. Neither man bothered looking up when another car engine sounded, resigned to being ignored.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" the woman's voice startled them into looking up. The cop leaned against her open door, the cruiser lights slowly revolving. "You do realize that fires are not allowed on the roadside?"

"Detective Jim Ellison, Cascade PD. This is my partner Blair Sandburg," Jim pulled his badge out of the pack and tossed it to her, "We just hiked out from the wreck of our plane. We'll put the fire out if you give us a lift to civilization."

She caught the i.d. easily and read it over before looking up at Jim carefully. She was lean and muscled, though there was a comfortable air to her - something that told Jim he was speaking to a competent colleague.

"Damn, you need a new i.d. photo Detective," she grinned, "Officer Lucas at your service."

"Thanks," Jim caught the i.d. and tucked it away. Blair had already put the small fire out. The rabbit was cooked so he pulled his share off and passed the stick to Jim.

"Might as well eat it," Blair told Jim, "We haven't had anything since dawn."

Jim glanced at Lucas, who was talking into her radio and grinning, apparently ignoring the skewered rabbit. He nodded and plopped most of his portion into his mouth, chewing quickly and swallowing, reaching eagerly for the next piece.

They'd trained their stomachs to expect a varied meal schedule, and take advantage of what they got when they got it. Blair finished his portions and wiped his hands on the grass before dusting them off on his clothes and wiping at his mouth.

"I've got some energy bars in here," Lucas offered, diving into the car and replacing the mike before rummaging around and walking up to the two men. She handed them a bar each and sat down to wait while they ate.

"Yuck," Jim pulled a face, not used to the chemical taste of processed food on his sensitive taste buds. Blair rubbed a hand on Jim's elbow and things settled down for the Sentinel again.

"Yeah I know, but when you've run out of time those things are handy," Lucas shrugged, "And they're always welcome with small kids. You know I thinks it's a law - the minute parents break down the kids turn into starving omnivorous creatures that want food and whine until they get it."

"Tommy's not like that," Blair mumbled. Jim chuckled.

"We haven't broken down anywhere yet with Tommy in the car," he retorted, "Blair's son is four."

"That's a cute age. They're just starting to be really independent but at the same time they want lots of hugging and praise," Lucas grinned, "My twins are four."

"Twins?" Blair marvelled, glad of the distraction as he struggled to his feet with Lucas' assistance.

"Uh huh," she nodded proudly, "They're the middle children. My oldest is six and the baby is two. I'm working on another at the moment - twelve weeks gone."

"Really love 'em huh?" Jim grinned and she grinned back.

"Also love the sex."

Blair laughed hard, and the distraction got him into the back seat with his leg raised. Jim was settled in the front seat and Lucas called in to dispatch that they were en-route.

"I've been told to take you straight to the local hospital. They'll check you over and let you clean up. I've got the lady on dispatch tonight raiding the clothes bin for some clean gear, she'll bring it to the hospital for you. My Captain wants to know whom he should call in Cascade for you," Lucas eased onto the road and kept the lights on, accelerating smoothly away from their last camp site.

"Probably be better to call Simon, hey Chief?" Jim glanced into the back seat and got a nod of approval, "Captain Simon Banks - our boss in Major Crimes. You want the number?"

"Sure," Lucas nodded. She glanced at Blair in the rear-view mirror, "You want to call your wife, Detective Sandburg?"

"It's Mister - I'm a civilian consultant permanently assigned to Jim and Major Crimes," Blair smiled, "And I'm single - she died."

"I'm sorry," Lucas apologized. Blair shrugged and leaned his head back tiredly, letting his eyes close. Jim smiled reassurance at her nervous glance and leaned back too, letting the motion of the car lull him to sleep.

0o0o0

"You have reached the phone of Sandburg, Sandburg and Ellison. Please leave a message after the beep…"

Oh, sorry, wrong number!

click 

0o0o0

Simon strode into the hospital at top speed. The call had come in just as he was leaving for the night and he'd yelled so loud half the bullpen had come running in concern. It was a one-hour drive from Cascade to this particular town - Simon did it in forty-five minutes, sirens and lights blazing all the way.

A female officer was leaning against the receptionists' desk, chatting idly to the man behind it as Simon strode in. He pulled his badge and held it out to her.

"Simon Banks, Cascade PD. I was told two of my men were here," he looked from the officer to the receptionist and the officer straightened up.

"Officer Lucas," she introduced herself and shook Simon's hand, "I picked them up this afternoon. Detective Ellison is done with the doctors - they've put him in a room already. This way."

Simon followed closely as she led the way past the almost empty emergency department.

"What's their condition?" Simon asked quietly and she smiled over her shoulder at him.

"You won't know them," she grinned, "A scruffier, more beat up pair I haven't met in a long time. Detective Ellison had a broken arm - the doctors were just casting it again as it was almost healed. Mr. Sandburg is still in evaluation - there's some concern over his knee injury."

She knocked on a door and then stuck her head in.

"Captain Banks is here," she announced and moved out of the way for Simon. He lurched to a stop just inside the door and gaped and the scruffy, bearded man who was smiling Jim's smile at him.

"Jeez Jim!" Simon exclaimed and barged on over to hug his detective, "My God!"

"Hello," Jim's voice was muffled but amused, "Miss us?"

"Damn straight," Simon swore and squeezed hard before letting go and sitting on the edge of the bed, "I can't believe you're here. You look terrible!"

"Thanks Simon. I knew I could count on you to say just the right thing," Jim laughed, "We didn't have time to stop at the salon on the way in."

"Seriously, though, are you ok?" Simon settled himself comfortably and shot Jim the 'captain's look'.

"I broke my arm when we crashed and hit my head," Jim shrugged, holding up the fibreglass cast, "The Doctors x-rayed it and said they wouldn't have to reset it. Blair did a perfect job. We're both malnourished and a little under weight, but that's understandable. The pilot died before we even crashed."

"Where's Sandburg?" Simon pressed and Jim's face clouded over.

"Still in exam," he sighed, "He dislocated his knee in the crash and then fell real bad on it a couple days ago. We couldn't stop, though. There was no sign of a search and we had to get out before winter."

"Hey, he's getting care now. It'll be ok, Jim," Simon swallowed his own worries to reassure his detective and was rewarded with a smile, "Your Dad was a real trouper while you were missing. He moved in with Tommy - who's fine, gets more intelligent every time he breathes, and you won't believe how he's grown. We arranged a schedule so the kid spent time with us all on the weekends to give your Dad a break."

"Good," Jim relaxed against the pillows and blushed faintly as his stomach growled, "Sorry, Simon. It knows there's food nearby and it doesn't help that the wind is blowing from the local diner."

"You allowed to eat? Any restrictions?" Simon asked and Jim grinned. Before he could place his order they were interrupted by a welcome voice.

"I could eat," said a tired voice from the door and Simon leapt up to help settle Blair in bed, getting in a good hug as he did. The orderlies left, promising to come back with some dinner for the two men. Blair looked just as scruffy as Jim did, though his face was lined with pain. Simon pretended not to notice.

"Tommy's fine, kid. We told him your expedition was going to take longer than we thought and he just accepted it no problems," Simon blurted and was rewarded when the tension drained out of Blair.

"Thanks," Blair hung his head and tried to get control of himself. Simon hugged him again and then moved back to sit on Jim's bed.

"What did the doctors say about your knee?" Jim asked and Blair sighed.

"I'll need some surgery. Basically I have a referral for a surgeon in Cascade," he pulled a face, "They don't think there's any permanent damage to it. I can go home with you tomorrow. Your arm? Did they have to reset it?"

"Nope," Jim grinned proudly, "You did a better job than the doctor could have according to my guy. They just want the cast on for a couple of weeks and then another x-ray."

"Good," Blair smiled, "So Simon, are you coming back to give us a lift tomorrow?"

"Coming back?" Simon shook his head, "Kid, I am here for the duration. No way am I letting you two out of my sight again. Look what happens!"

The orderlies, bearing better than usual hospital fare interrupted them.

"Wow, it looks edible!" Blair exclaimed as the orderlies left and got a laugh from Lucas who was walking in.

"It had better be, my husband cooked it," she retorted, "He owns the diner across the way and I managed to persuade the doc's to let you have the house special."

"Definitely edible," Jim said around his mouthful and Blair nodded emphatically. Lucas handed a cup of coffee to Simon and settled on the visitors' chair.

"We'll need to get statements from you both tonight, and of course any information you can about the location of the crash site. My Lieutenant is coming over to see you in an hour's time. He'll bring the clothes with him," Lucas told them and then turned to Simon. If she thought it odd for a Captain to sit on his detective's bed, she gave no sign of it as she inquired about his trip up.

Simon appreciated that she was giving Jim and Blair time to eat and relax, and made small talk happily. Blair dozed off as soon as he finished and Lucas moved the tray away carefully. She adjusted the blankets with a practiced hand and smiled over at Jim's anxious face.

"He was so tired," Jim sighed, "I can't believe he managed to walk for so long on that knee."

"Jim, he's had worse," Simon reminded his detective, "Remember that time with Quinn? He's a trouper, plain and simple. Let him rest until the Lieutenant gets here to take his statement."

"Lieutenant Peters is a good man, Jim," Lucas smiled, "He'll keep it brief and simple."

"If you can fish out our pack there's a map in it - Blair kept it up while we walked so we could find the site again. The pilot was buried, but …"

"His family would like to bury him properly," Simon nodded and Lucas opened the locker between the beds to pull out the battered pack. She handed it to Jim, who rummaged around and pulled out the map for her. Simon leaned over to look at it too, exclaiming in a quiet voice over the distance covered.

0o0o0

"You have reached the phone of Sandburg, Sandburg and Ellison. Please leave a message after the beep…"

Mr. Ellison, it's Joel Taggert. Call me at the office as soon as you can…I've got some good news for you. Some very good news. You can reach me at Simon's desk or my own. I'll be waiting for your call.

click 

0o0o0

Jim grinned as Simon opened the door to 307 Prospect and waited for Blair to swing step slowly past him before stepping inside.

"Home," Jim said simply, taking in the familiar sights and smells eagerly. Simon grinned back at him, watching Jim re-connect to his life. The man was dressed in mismatched sweats - the top too large and the bottoms just a little too small.

His leather jacket clashed with the outfit and the hospital slippers only added to the strange look. Blair wasn't much better off, with a leg brace strapped over his clothes. Both men were still bearded.

"I want a shave," Blair announced, "Tommy's at day-care, right? We can pick him up when we want?"

"Yep," Simon confirmed, "Mr. Ellison agreed not to tell Tommy you were coming home. Tommy thinks I'm picking him up tonight."

"Why didn't you tell him we were coming home Chief?" Jim hadn't heard this side of the discussion with his father last night - he'd been in the bathroom after talking to his Dad.

"After our last try to get home I didn't want to promise anything," Blair confessed to the floor, "So I was superstitious."

"I don't blame you," Simon sympathized, and made a move towards the door, "Do you guys need me at all? I'll stay if you like…"

"We're ok, Simon. We'll come in tomorrow ok?" Jim nodded to his boss and grinned, "Thanks for everything Simon."

"You're welcome," Simon hugged both men and headed for the door, rummaging for a cigar as he walked down the corridor happily. Jim shut the door and turned to look at Blair.

"Why don't you head into your bathroom? I'll grab some clothes for you and drop them off before I hit the shower too," Jim suggested, then frowned, "Chief, do you want to sleep in your old room until your knee has recovered?"

"No," Blair smiled, "I'll be fine. I won't say nay to the laundry service though. Do you want a hand shaving?"

"I'll let you know," Jim promised as he followed Blair next door. Little had changed in Blair's half of their home and Jim smiled at the comfortable space as he hurried upstairs. He selected broken in jeans and the usual layers that Blair liked to wear, as well as socks and underwear. He left these things on the cabinet next to the sink and watched Blair swing step his way inside.

"I'll hear if you need me," Jim grinned and Blair nodded, shutting the door. To Jim's disgust he couldn't trim the beard enough one handed to shave. He gave up and showered with his cast wrapped in a bag, then got into his own jeans and headed next door. Blair was out and dressed, looking like his normal self. The gash in his hairline was healed over, though the scar there was still red. That would fade in time.

"Can't shave?" Blair sympathized and Jim nodded, "Come on then."

He draped a towel around Jim's bare torso and balanced himself on one leg. Jim steadied his friend by putting his hands on Blair's hips and then sat still as Blair first trimmed and then carefully shaved and washed his face, checking for stray bristles with tender fingers before leaning back and grabbing his crutches. Jim smiled his thanks, got dressed and looked in the mirror.

"We look like we did again," Jim sighed in relief and followed Blair to the kitchen. They made a sandwich each and Jim carried them to Blair's table.

"Shall we go get Tommy now, or do you need to rest first?" Jim asked when they had finished their snack in silence. Blair grinned.

"Now," he said firmly and Jim got up, plucking Blair's car keys from the twin basket by the front door. Blair locked up and Jim drove the Subaru to the Cascade Day Care Centre. Blair had chosen the centre on sight - the colourful building, friendly staff and welcoming garden reassuring him that Tommy would be happy there. The six foot wall surrounding the property had also reassured his concerns about safety.

Jim managed to get a space near the front door, parking illegally in the pick up zone. He followed Blair eagerly to the front door and held it open for his partner. The receptionist smiled broadly and welcomed them back from their expedition.

"Tommy has been so excited about your travels, he tells us about them every day," she picked up the phone and missed Blair's startled look at Jim. Jim shrugged and stretched Sentinel senses for a trace of his nephew. Blair's hand twisted in Jim's sleeve tensely and Jim relaxed when he heard Tommy's voice saying goodbye to his teacher and friends. He tracked the four-year-old easily as he collected his own school bag and walked to reception with the aide.

"Da!" Tommy dropped his bag to throw himself into Blair's outstretched arms. Jim joined the hug unashamedly, listening to the unsteady breathing of his Guide and nephew, ignoring the single tear that tracked down his own face.

0o0o0

Epilogue…

Blair propped his leg up comfortably on the couch and opened the scrapbook Tommy had presented to him.

Each page was decorated carefully with Tommy's own version of ideograms - symbols and pictures that represented actions and occurrences.

Every night after dinner Tommy had pulled the scrapbook out and drawn what Da and Uncle Jim had done on expedition that day. Allowing for childish perceptions Tommy was startlingly accurate on their daily activity.

"What gets me is the ideograms he chose for us," Jim plopped down next to Blair, who nodded and touched the two symbols for himself and Jim.

"He's grown," Blair grinned, "He needs more clothes already. And a haircut."

"Dad said he wanted to go shopping last week, but Tommy vetoed the idea. I have a feeling he was pretty spoilt, Chief," Jim chuckled, "Dad wouldn't be able to withstand that Sandburg charm."

"We've already proven that the Ellison stock is notoriously susceptible to Sandburg charm," Blair agreed complacently. Jim slapped his friend on the arm and flipped a few pages of the scrapbook. William Ellison had gone home only half an hour ago - eager to visit with his son and adopted son.

"We have to think of something to do for your Dad, Jim," Blair looked at his friend, "He's done so much for us…even keeping Tommy safe from Naomi."

Jim sobered instantly. Naomi had tried to gain custody of Tommy a week after their plane had gone down. If William hadn't put the law department from his firm on the case she may have succeeded. Blair had no doubt that Naomi would take Tommy from Cascade to travel with her - much as she had taken Blair on her travels when he was a child.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am Blair. I don't understand why she's doing this."

"She's always been a little insecure…" Blair said hesitantly, "When I got older I realised she used the people around her to define herself. That's why she would take me with her sometimes - she needed to be defined as a mother and all the stuff that came with it. When she wanted to be something else she'd leave me with family or friends. I guess my family in Cascade is threatening her. By taking Tommy she can go back to the whole mother identity - she hasn't been able to do that for a while now. I guess I haven't needed her so much lately, even though I miss her and love her."

Jim sat silently and stared at the page Tommy had drawn tonight before going to bed. In the centre of the page, it showed a wolf, and black jaguar and a lynx curled up together. Around the edges were Tommy's ideograms for home, travel, safety and love.

Jim couldn't have put it better himself.

…End Wilderness…

0o0o0

…On to Life…


	5. Life

Life

by Shedoc

0o0o0

Jim watched Tommy carefully fold up his shirt and place it on the toy box at the end of his bed. With Blair in hospital for surgery on his injured knee Jim was left to care for his nephew. Their hike through the wilderness had been draining for both men, but the thought of coming home to this little boy had kept both men going when the pain from their injuries had seemed overwhelming.

"I can go see Da tomorrow?" Tommy confirmed and Jim nodded, helping the boy put his pyjamas on and then settling in the rocking chair with Tommy and the boy's favourite giraffe. He wrapped the brightly patterned patchwork quilt that Naomi had sent around Tommy for warmth and Tommy snuggled into his arms eagerly, needing the reassurance.

"Da was just very tired today. He needed to sleep so he could talk with you tomorrow. Remember how we discussed that Da would need peace and quiet at first?" Jim stroked the short curls and let the chairs easy motion settle them.

The Sentinel was most displeased at being separated from his Guide and Jim was trying to soothe them both. Simon had substituted for Jim at the hospital, calling in updates and sitting with Blair when he came out of the recovery suite.

"The doctors were going to make him better though," Tommy insisted and Jim smiled. That was the voice of love speaking.

"That's right," he agreed, "He won't be able to run around for a while, but he will get all better soon."

"And then we're going on an expedition together!" Tommy exclaimed happily, "Somewhere new for a little while!"

Jim and Blair had both decided to take some of their leave time this year in a joint holiday to England. They could visit castles and ruins happily together without the strain of camping or speaking a foreign language. They were taking Tommy for his first trip overseas and the little boy was very excited about it.

"Our first expedition together," Jim agreed, making his voice deep and gentle. He wasn't too keen to travel, but the idea of watching Tommy experience a whole new country was too alluring to pass up. Tommy's head drooped against Jim's chest and the Sentinel slowed the chair a little. Tommy snuggled further in and Jim held him a little tighter, curling his arms around the boy protectively.

Another ten minutes and Tommy was fast asleep, his small body lax in Jim's arms. The Sentinel got up carefully and tucked his Guide's son into bed, gently rolling him out of the quilt and leaving the door ajar. He would sleep in Blair's bed tonight in case Tommy needed anything, so Jim sat on the couch in front of the TV and settled on a movie with the sound turned down and his hearing dialled up.

At nine Tommy stirred, but went back to sleep naturally. Jim checked his own loft and then Blair's before subsiding back on the couch. The phone rang in his apartment and he ran for it quickly, not wanting Tommy to wake.

"Ellison," Jim's voice was hurried and he glanced back anxiously at Blair's half of their home as he waited out the long distance beeps.

"Mr. Ellison, you don't know me," a man's voice said smoothly, "I'm a friend of Rachael Collins. She asked me to get in contact with you."

Rachael had left Cascade not long after Jim and Blair had crashed into the forest. Jim had been unable to find her. She had resigned from her job and sold the apartment, leaving no forwarding address with her neighbours. The post office was redirecting her mail and Jim could only find out where by getting a court order. He didn't want to go to that extreme.

"Oh," Jim smiled, "Is she ok? I looked for her, but…"

"She's fine," the man interrupted, "I'll be in Cascade in two weeks time, I was hoping we could meet. Can I give you the hotel name? We could meet in the bar there."

"Uh, sure," Jim fumbled for paper and pen, "Could you give me her number? I'd like to call her myself."

"Unfortunately she's out of the country," the man's voice was smooth and final. Jim frowned a little, but wrote down the name of the hotel and the time and date for the meeting.

"And your name?" Jim asked and there was a surprised pause on the other end.

"Oh, of course. I'm George Jackson," he identified himself, "I'll see you in two weeks, Detective."

Jim listened to the dial tone for a moment, then hung up gently. Two weeks would give him plenty of time to check out George Jackson and care for his Guide. He put the paper near his wallet and headed back next door to finish the movie and get some sleep.

0o0o0

The sound of the door opening alerted Blair to his visitors and he opened his eyes, turning his head. Jim and Tommy hovered in the doorway; Tommy perched snugly on his uncle's hip. Blair held out his arms, his smile becoming a grin and Jim crossed the room quickly, passing Tommy down to snuggle next to him. The bed was raised so Blair was almost sitting up and Jim sat on the mattress by his brother's feet.

"Are you ok?" Tommy asked anxiously and Blair dropped kisses on his son's face and hair.

"Just fine," Blair replied, and Tommy snuggled in closely. Jim smiled at them and put a hand on his Guide's foot.

"Sleep ok, Chief?" Jim asked and Blair rolled his eyes.

"Yeah," he replied dishonestly. Blair had trouble sleeping in hospitals unless Jim was there, but their separation couldn't be helped. Tommy needed his uncle close by while Blair was unavailable. Both men were still on leave from the PD at the insistence of the department shrinks. Jim found that this time the enforced leave wasn't too bad. His arm cast would have confined him to desk duty anyway and Blair had taken Tommy out of day care while they were on leave in order to spend the extra time with his son while they recovered from their ordeal. Rediscovering Tommy was a real joy to Jim - the little boy was bright and loving and fun to be around - even when he was being naughty.

Of course, for Tommy, being naughty was refusing to eat his vegetables, or asking for something even after he'd been told no. There was no real vice in the boy and Jim knew that Blair would see to it that his son's character was well developed.

Tommy was curled so closely into his father's chest he was almost inside his skin. Blair's hands moved constantly in a soothing pattern over his back and shoulders.

"Love you," Tommy murmured and Blair kissed him again, feeling the little hitches in Tommy's breathing. The boy was close to tears from the stress.

"Love you too short stuff," Blair smiled, "Love Uncle Jim too."

Tommy turned his head a little to smile at Jim and hold out the hand that wasn't knotted in Blair's pyjama top. Jim took it immediately and rubbed his thumb over the knuckles. The gesture spoke for him.

"My family," Blair continued in a contented voice and Tommy smiled, relaxing a little.

"Can you come home now?" Tommy tilted his head back to look at his father. Blair shook his head and sighed.

"Not today, Tommy," Blair reminded his son, "Two more nights and then I can come home. The doctor says I have to stay here so they can make sure everything will get better properly."

"Oh," Tommy thought about it, "Can I see you every day?"

"Yeah," Jim answered that one - no way was he going to be separated from Blair for that long, "We'll come every day, once in the morning and once in the afternoon. Do you want anything when we come back later, Chief?"

"Something to read," Blair suggested significantly and Jim nodded. One of Tommy's books would be a welcome present - it would occupy the boy and let Blair indulge in his favourite father/son activity - the bedtime story.

0o0o0

Blair settled on the couch carefully and propped the crutches close by. Tommy was asleep and Blair was glad to be home again. Jim settled on the other couch and smiled anxiously at his friend.

"You ok? Do you need anything?" Jim asked quietly and the object of his concern shook his head.

"I'm ok, Jim," he emphasized the response with a smile, "Are you ok? You've been a little twitchy."

"Yeah, I know," Jim ran a hand through his short hair and scrubbed at his face, "I've just been tense. I guess it's 'cos I had to let Simon stay with you when you first went in. I was happy to stay with Tommy - don't get me wrong, Chief. I just wanted to be with you too."

"Come here," Blair put his arms out and the other man moved over for the offered hug, kneeling in front of the couch to be comfortable. Blair's hands found and released the tension in the muscles along Jim's back and shoulders. His scent still had traces of the hospital in it, but Jim simply burrowed in further for the pure scent and hung on tight. His Shaman always knew what he needed.

"Better?" Blair asked when he relaxed and the Sentinel nodded, pulling away and heading into the kitchen to pull himself together and make his Guide some tea.

Blair accepted the tea with a smile and Jim sat down on his own couch again with his coffee.

"Hey, Chief, I think I've found Rachael," Jim broke the comfortable silence, "A friend of hers is coming into Cascade and wants to meet with me."

"Yeah? Who?" Blair smiled. Jim had really liked Rachael and Blair had hoped they'd find each other again.

"A guy called George Jackson," Jim grimaced, "Probably her new guy."

"I'm sorry," Blair sighed, "I thought you two would…"

"I guess not," Jim shrugged, "And it's ok, Chief. I'll miss her but I'm not exactly broken hearted here. That says something right? That we weren't really going to be together forever."

"As long as you're ok Jim," Blair nodded his agreement and leant forward to put his empty cup on the table, "When are you meeting this guy?"

"Not for a while - next week actually," Jim collected the empty cups, "You heading to bed?"

"Yeah, I am kinda beat. Why is it that checking out of hospital is so tiring?" Blair grumbled levering himself upright and positioning the crutches before Jim could get out of the kitchen and help.

"It's just so exciting," Jim deadpanned and Blair laughed before swing stepping to his stairs. He propped one crutch against the wall and gripped the banister to start climbing.

"Are you sure you don't want to sleep in your old room?" Jim asked nervously and Blair shook his head. He wasn't going to be coddled to boredom by a Sentinel in Blessed Protector overdrive, and knew that giving in now would only encourage his friend. The trick was to do it with tact, and without letting on the reason why you were refusing.

"I want to be near Tommy, in case he wakes. I won't hear him from next door," Blair smiled, "We're not all Sentinels here."

"Good thing too - we'd zone out together and starve to death," Jim growled and positioned himself behind Blair.

"What are you doing?" Blair twisted his head to look back at the man behind him.

"I'm gonna walk you upstairs, Chief. Now will you get going?" Jim mock glared and Blair rolled his eyes before moving carefully up the stairs, his friend always a step behind ready to steady him if it was needed. Once in his room Blair swapped the crutch to the other arm and hopped to the bed, sitting on the edge and starting to remove his shirt.

"Thanks Jim, I can take it from here," Blair grinned, "See you in the morning big guy."

"You sure?" Jim asked a little wistfully and Blair nodded.

"You could sleep here tonight if you like," Blair offered but Jim shook his head, turning back to walk down the stairs.

"I'll hear if you call me," Jim hesitated a moment, "Good night Chief."

"Good night, brother," Blair's smile was like a warm bath and Jim's shoulders relaxed a little as he headed down to his own house.

0o0o0

Tommy woke Jim by the simple method of climbing onto the bed and kissing him awake. It was rather like being slobbered on by a giggling puppy, Jim reflected as he rolled onto his back and pulled Tommy down onto his chest. The boy was wearing what he called 'zoo' pyjamas - flannel material with an animal print.

"Good morning short stuff," Jim kissed his nephew back and smiled as he snuggled close, "You ok?"

"Uh huh," Tommy nodded, "Is it too early?"

Jim glanced over at the clock and saw it was their usual waking time.

"No, it's not too early," Jim smiled, "Are you hungry?"

"Want to make breakfast-in-bed for Da," Tommy confirmed, "Can we?"

"Sounds like a plan. In fact we can all have breakfast in bed together," Jim suggested and Tommy kissed him again before scrambling down and pulling at the covers impatiently. Jim took the hint and got up quickly, wrapping himself in his robe and then picking Tommy up. He carried his nephew back to his own bedroom for slippers and robe, then carried Tommy back to Jim's kitchen - where they could make a bit of noise without waking Blair. Jim carefully placed Tommy on the stool they'd bought for this purpose and then tied an apron on his nephew too.

"What shall we make for Da?" Jim asked and Tommy bounced lightly on his toes.

Jim felt the sappy grin spread across his face - this was the first bounce he'd seen since he and Blair had got back. The little boy had been inclined to cling to both men - and was very reluctant to let Jim out of sight while his father was in hospital. To minimise separation time Blair had used some of Amelia's money to pay for a private hospital. He'd also donated to Cascade General - sponsoring a similar operation for someone who didn't have his resources. Jim thought he was nuts, but Blair felt better about jumping the queue with the donation and no more was said.

"Eggs on toast and coffee!" Tommy announced, "With bacon?"

"I don't think Da likes bacon in his coffee," Jim smiled as he went through the contents of the fridge. His father had made sure both fridges were well stocked.

"Uncle Ji-im," Tommy complained, "The bacon goes with the eggs!"

"Oh!" Jim came back to the counter and quickly cracked enough eggs for three into the mixing bowl before handing Tommy the whisk and guiding his nephew into the right motion. As Jim set up the toaster, coffee maker and heated the pan for the eggs he mused on his unwillingness to let Tommy very far out of reach this morning. The boy hadn't complained at being carried from place to place, but Jim wasn't in the habit of toting his nephew around. Maybe it's displacement activity. I can't carry Blair around even though he's in pain and can't walk, so I carry Blair's son instead, Jim mused as Tommy watched Jim scramble the eggs and then started making toast after carrying his stool to stand in front of the toaster. Jim shrugged his thoughts off and tuned into Tommy's chatter, smiling as the boy planned his return to day care and Miki.

Jim chimed in, speaking in Quecha slowly. Tommy answered in kind - using simple sentences to reply to Jim's questions. It was the child's gift - he picked up spoken languages very quickly and Blair was planning to teach him to write simple English sentences once he started pre-school. Tommy was obviously intelligent and Blair wanted his son to learn to use that intelligence wisely. At the moment they were encouraging Tommy to ask questions and explore the world around him.

They put everything on a tray and Jim carried it next door and upstairs carefully. Both man and child stopped at the top of the stairs to look at Blair. The curly haired man was lying on his back, doona across his chest. As they watched Blair let out a mighty snore that broke the spell and had Tommy giggling madly.

"Shhh, don't wake him!" Jim said loudly, and Tommy only laughed harder, trotting to the bed and climbing up to straddle Blair's chest. Blair's eyes opened and he smiled fondly at his son before wrapping him in his arms and kissing him on the nose.

"Good morning," Tommy piped in a clear voice and kissed his father back.

"Good morning. Sleep well?" Blair asked and Tommy nodded vigorously. He stretched his arms out wide, palms facing in.

"I slept thiiiiiiis long!" Tommy announced and got a laugh from both men.

"That is a long time," Blair marvelled, and turned to look at Jim, "Is that breakfast?"

"Yeah, yours is downstairs Chief," Jim replied and Blair laughed. Tommy frowned at Jim and got off his father. Blair sat up, propped the pillows and levered himself up to lean against them. He helped Tommy get settled and Jim put the tray on the dresser, ferrying plates, coffee and milk to the two people on the bed. He sat on the other side of Tommy to eat his breakfast and listened quietly to father and son as they chattered together about nothing much.

A Sentinel level scan of Blair revealed his friend to be well rested, in almost no pain and at ease. Jim felt the muscles across his neck loosen and finished his breakfast, joining in the chatter happily. The last of the worry eased and disappeared. Blair was fine and they were back safe in their territory. His Guide would recover.

0o0o0

Jim looked around the bar casually, heading for the bar tender as he looked. A police check on George Jackson revealed him to be a lawyer too - one who worked for an international firm and spent a lot of time overseas. He had a Washington license, and no driving infringements. His picture had been with the license, and Jim scanned for that face before giving up and asking the bartender if George Jackson was there.

He was pointed over to a discreet table in the corner. George was a lightly muscled man, about Jim's height, but not his build. He had straight blond hair that was carefully styled and wore designer clothes in the shape of chinos and a tailored shirt and jacket. He recognized Jim right away and stood, offering his hand. His handshake was firm and correct but the contact had no sense of personality to it. Jim sat in the other chair, declined a drink and looked calmly at his host. He carried a letter in his inner jacket pocket - one that kind of anticipated the meeting and released Rachael from their attachment. If Jim was unable to speak to her directly, the letter in his pocket was the next best thing.

"Rachael has told me everything about you," George was saying comfortably, "She was very upset by the crash."

"That's why I'd like to talk to her - to reassure her that I'm ok," Jim smiled without meaning, every nerve in his body twitching.

"I'd rather you didn't," George vetoed that idea with an unmistakable air of authority. It set Jim's teeth on edge. He decided to push things along - get the big 'she's with me now' announcement out of the way so he could give George the letter for Rachael and leave. The letter had been Blair's idea and a good one. Even if Rachael never read it Jim got a sense of closure from it all.

"And why not?" Jim asked lightly, leaning back in his chair and fixing George with a mildly challenging look. The other man didn't seem at all fazed and that irked Jim even further.

"Because my wife is to have nothing more to do with you," George said smugly, and Jim called the waiter for a drink.

"Your wife?" Jim asked after it arrived and he'd swallowed almost half of it. George nodded.

"Isn't that a bit quick? I was only gone two months."

"We've been married four years," George replied, an odd glint in his eye, "We have an open marriage. We're apart so often because of work that it made sense to allow my wife her affairs and I mine. As long as we're discreet there is no problem. Until now of course."

"Pardon me for surviving," Jim's voice could have cut through lead and George shook his head. Jim was getting angrier by the minute, but held his temper. Better to get it all over with now and then go home. George was speaking again and Jim focussed on the words, just wanting this unpleasant little interlude over with.

"Don't misunderstand me, Detective. It was not your accident and survival that caused the problem," George drawled, leaning back and surveying Jim complacently, "It was an accident of a different nature that changed your circumstances."

Jim frowned, then felt all the heat in his body drain out via his feet. He and Rachael had an accident nearly seven months ago, but thought that everything was ok. She was pregnant? He was going to be a father? The room lurched sickeningly for a moment and then settled. Everything was too hot and close, but Jim struggled to concentrate, to stay sane and upright just a little longer. Soon he would go home and Blair would put back all the pieces that made Jim's world whole.

"By the time she realised it was too late to do anything about it safely - and I won't risk her health in that manner," George continued, each word like a dagger in Jim's chest, "So I will help her cover up the… indiscretion. Neither of us wants the child. You have a choice. We will sign the child over to you upon its birth or give it up for adoption. You have two months to decide, Detective, though if you ever cared for Rachael you won't keep her in suspense any longer than necessary. Here is the card of my lawyer - please contact him with your decision. We won't need to meet again."

George slid the card onto the table, dropped some money beside it to cover his tab and walked out.

Jim sat alone for a very long time.

It was only as the staff began to pack up for the evening that he stirred, dropped some money on the table as well before snatching the card up and fleeing the bar. Though he'd never finished that one drink, Jim felt the world tilt and sway around him. He stumbled once on the way to the car and then sat behind the wheel for long minutes, breathing hard and trying to get it all under control.

After a while he started the truck and drove carefully back to Prospect, oblivious to everything around him. He parked in the usual spot and slumped forward over the wheel.

Questions pounded through his head at dizzying speed and in infinite variety on the same theme: what am I going to do?

0o0o0

Blair stirred the sugar into his coffee slowly and took a pensive sip. Jim had returned home last night and gone straight to bed, ignoring the light in Blair's living room that let him know his friend was still awake. It was never a good sign when Jim cut himself off from his Guide. When threatened the Sentinel tended to throw the baby out with the bath water and get rid of everyone close to him, Guide included. The last time this had happened…Blair shivered and thrust away the spectre of the fountain.

The door to Tommy's room opened and Blair smiled over at his son.

"Hey, short stuff," Blair put the coffee down and bent over to swing Tommy up onto his hip. Leaning against the counter for balance, Blair hugged his son close and kissed him on top of the wild curls.

"Good morning Da," Tommy snuggled in as always and Blair rocked a little. When Tommy lifted his face from Blair's neck he put his son down.

"What shall we make for breakfast?" Blair asked and Tommy scrunched his face up in thought. It was such a cute expression that Blair held his breath to keep from laughing.

"Toast," Tommy decided, " 'Cos then I can make it for you and you can sit down. I can take care of you!"

"Ok," Blair smiled, "Do you want me to reach the jam and peanut butter for you first?"

Tommy nodded and Blair did that, making sure that everything was safe for Tommy before swing stepping over to the table and sitting down, stretching his leg out to the side. Tommy stood on the stool that was identical to the one Jim had in his kitchen and started making the toast.

"Shall we go to the park today?" Blair asked, watching closely, proud of his son's independence and confidence. It had taken a lot of love and effort to get his son to this stage, and Blair didn't regret a moment of it.

"Yeah!" Tommy nodded, bouncing a little on his stool; "Can we have a picnic? With Uncle Jim too?"

"We can ask if Uncle Jim wants to come along," Blair agreed, hoping that Jim was over the worst of his reaction to whatever George Jackson had told him. Blair couldn't imagine what had been said at that meeting - even though his imagination was pretty wild at times.

Tommy got down and walked over to Blair carrying a plate of toast with peanut butter on it. He went back to the kitchen for his own plate and Blair helped him climb up onto his booster seat. They ate breakfast in companionable silence and Tommy carefully carried the empty plates back to the kitchen while Blair wiped up the table.

One shower and clothes stop later Blair and Tommy headed in next door to find Jim. The fact that he hadn't joined his family for breakfast had Blair worrying. Jim's loft was empty - the bed made and the door secured. Tommy turned a disappointed face up to Blair, who hid his own misgivings to smile and shrug it off. They made sandwiches and then walked slowly to the park, Tommy carrying Raffey and Blair wearing his pack.

Tommy supervised Blair's seat on a bench near the equipment. He bossed Blair shamelessly; making his father put his leg up and asking if he was warm enough. Blair ended up laughing at Tommy's version of Blessed Protector Overdrive, and sent his son off to play while he mused over Jim's actions. Blair had packed a book of his own to read and the cell phone - just in case. He pulled the cell phone out now and hit the speed dial for Jim.

"Ellison," the gruff voice was welcome in Blair's ears.

"Hey Jim, we missed you this morning," Blair made his voice light and carefree, "You ok?"

"Fine," Jim replied stonily, "Just have some stuff to do. You need something?"

"No," Blair said slowly, warning bells going off in a full chorus, "Just called to see how you were."

"I'll talk to you later," Jim hung up and Blair bit his lip, turning the phone off and stashing it back in his pack. Tommy shrieked and slid down the slide, waving madly. Blair managed a smile and waved back to his son. Whatever Jim had been told at the meeting last night must have been pretty nasty - Jim was in full withdrawal and Blair had no idea what was causing it. He closed his eyes and prayed there wasn't another Sentinel on the loose.

0o0o0

Jim hung up and went back to staring at the ocean. He'd driven out here before dawn and sat on the hood of the truck to watch the sun rise over the water.

Though he'd gone to bed upon returning home last night he hadn't slept.

The sun had risen slowly and majestically, sending golden tendrils of light snaking over the water from the horizon. The crisp cool air had slowly heated from the tender light, making Jim's skin tingle in delicious sympathy. The world seemed cleaner and younger as the sun began its gentle arc into the sky. The beauty and peace were lost on Jim.

As the day wore on the early morning chill dissipated, giving way to unseasonable warmth. It was perfect picnic weather - grab a friend and go play weather, and a part of Jim resented the fact. He should be with Blair and Tommy, who were doubtless outside right now, enjoying the day and each other.

Gradually the road behind the car park where Jim was sitting became busier as people headed to work or home from the night shift. The noise of the cars brushed his hearing without acknowledgement. As the day slowly wore on people appeared, in cars, on foot, with pets and family and friends - going about their daily lives, swirling around the troubled island that was Jim Ellison.

Jim's turmoil wasn't visible to the casual observer, though Blair would have been able to spot the jaw clenching tension his partner felt in a second. The Sentinel was a seething mass of contradictory impulses and emotions.

He felt angry and betrayed that Rachael had used him as a sex toy while her husband was away, but at the same time pitied her status as the mother of an unwanted child.

He was scared that he would lose Blair and Simon's respect, and resentful of Blair's easy acceptance of fatherhood. He wanted to tell his brother and friends, but feared their responses to his situation - the ridicule and contempt he felt sure they'd hand out.

He was too old to be a father - nearly forty. By the time the kid was ready to leave home he'd be in his fifties - no kid should have a geriatric for a father!

But what if it was a Sentinel too? It would need Blair and Tommy to Guide it. Another generation of Sandburg's enslaved by the needs of a Sentinel.

And if it were a Sentinel would he react to it the way he reacted to Alex? Would he hurt his brother, leave him vulnerable and alone?

What would his father and Steven say?

How could he possibly explain his adoption of a baby to the PD?

How could he abandon his own child to strangers? Damn Rachael for putting him in this situation anyway - if he'd known she was married …if he'd known she was pregnant…

Why hadn't he noticed the baby when they'd had sex? As a Sentinel surely he'd have noticed that about her…they were joined at the genitals for crying out loud!

What was he going to tell Blair - his shaman already knew that something was wrong? The phone call had shown how concerned Blair was. Jim shifted against his truck and hung his head, no longer looking at the placid view of the ocean.

What was he going to do?

0o0o0

When Jim got home late that night - starving, exhausted and no further ahead with his planning - Simon was sitting with Blair next door. It was easy for Jim to stretch his hearing and eavesdrop - after all, the sound that formed the backbone of his life was in that room: Blair's heartbeat.

"He just hung up?" Simon's voice was saying.

"Yeah," Blair sounded defeated. It was not hard for Jim to discern that Blair and Simon were sitting side by side on the couch, facing the darkened windows with coffee on the table in front of them. Blair's leg would be propped up on the table too, and Simon would be sitting so he was facing his consultant a little.

"Maybe he just needs some space, Sandburg. You guys have had it pretty rough lately and no chance to spend time apart. Maybe it's not a rejection - remember when he went fishing without us that time?" Simon suggested. His tone didn't agree with his words - their boss was worried about them and with good reason. When Sentinel and Guide fell out of synch things were not pretty.

"That's the problem Simon!" Blair's voice was low and intense, "The last time he needed space I drowned! Well it's not going to happen, Simon. My Sentinel is not rejecting my son - he sure as hell isn't rejecting me. I'm going to get to the bottom of this if it kills me!"

"Last time it did," Simon blurted. There was a shocked silence, "Jesus Sandburg, I didn't mean it that way! Maybe we should just give him some space."

"No," Jim wasn't aware he'd moved until the two men on the couch turned to face him, "I…I guess I need to…"

Blair levered himself upright and stood facing Jim. Jim looked at Simon, his face taut with need. Blair deserved the truth, and Jim would just have to trust him. Blair had never let him fall before - he'd take care of Jim now.

"I need to talk to Blair," Jim's voice was barely audible, "Simon…could you stay with Tommy?"

"Sure Jim," Simon nodded and passed Blair his crutches. Blair took them wordlessly and swing stepped over to Jim, following when the Sentinel turned and led the way back to his half of their home.

"Have you eaten?" Blair asked as they passed the kitchen and Jim shook his head. Blair clucked under his breath and headed for the fridge, looking for leftovers. Jim stood numbly at the kitchen counter while his shaman re-heated some of the previous night's stir-fry and then wolfed down the plate while still standing at the counter. Blair stood opposite him silently, waiting until Jim was finished and the plate rinsed before leaving the kitchen. Early in the partnership Blair had come to realize that if Jim was avoiding something you had to stay in the area until he'd confronted it - that meant you stood in the kitchen until he ate, sat in the bedroom until he slept, stood outside the bathroom while he bathed. Most people would have thought it strange to say the least, but Blair's theory was that the Sentinel needed the Guide's presence to remind him to do things sometimes. Either that or Jim needed to be bullied into caring for himself from time to time. Whatever the reason, Blair Sandburg was the man for the job.

"We need to talk," Blair led the way to the couches now and Jim stopped him. True, this is where they did most of their serious talking, but Blair's injury would become uncomfortable if he were propped on the couch for too long. The cop walked over, picked his partner up with a grunt and let the crutches fall with a clatter. He walked swiftly up the stairs, ignoring the other man's startled exclamation and Simon's voice as the Captain headed in to check out the noise and saw them on the stairs.

Whatever Blair said to Simon made the captain return to his couch and Jim was satisfied with that - he wanted nothing to distract him from his brother.

Settling Blair tenderly on the bed - propping him up with pillows and wrapping a blanket around him as well - Jim climbed up onto the mattress and settled down. He rested his head over Blair's heart and wound his arms around Blair's waist, content to just lie there for a moment.

Blair put his arms around Jim and held on - waiting out the reaction that was making Jim tremble like this. He didn't say anything, just held on and stroked the head cradled on his chest. Jim's Sentinel instincts were running high and Blair didn't want to exacerbate the problem by demanding 'normal' behaviour. Whatever Jim was struggling with was life changing. The question was, would Blair be allowed to help?

"I'm in trouble," Jim's voice was muffled, but still audible. Blair felt a band of tension snap deep within. Jim wasn't rejecting him or Tommy. He would be allowed to help.

"Tell me," Blair urged and Jim snuggled deeper, turning his head so he could talk without getting a mouthful of Blair's shirt. Blair shifted until they were both comfortable, sliding down a little and tugging Jim closer. Jim needed to feel that his Guide was safe, so that was what Blair gave him, consciously relaxing his body and slowing his breathing. Jim relaxing his grip a little and curling even closer rewarded his efforts.

"George Jackson…is Rachael's' husband of four years," Jim shook his head, "She…lied to me Chief. He…he said they have…an understanding about sex…"

Blair's grip tightened and he dropped his head to rest his cheek on Jim's short hair. He was glad Rachael wasn't psychic - she'd have curled up and died if she knew what Blair was thinking about her now.

"I'm so sorry," Blair whispered, "What did he say? What's he going to do?"

"That's not it," Jim gulped for air, "She's…the blow out…she's pregnant…"

Blair gasped in shock and felt Jim flinch. He tightened his grip even further, rocking them now and rubbing his cheek over the soft hair. He murmured vague comforting sounds and waited until Jim was still again before asking.

"Will you be allowed to see the baby?" in a voice that was gentle yet neutral. A great rending sob tore its way out of Jim and the cop fell apart, giving into the stresses and uncertainties, sure in the knowledge that Blair would be able to put him back together.

Blair rocked them and hummed meaningless sounds into Jim's hair, stroking and squeezing the shuddering body in his arms gently. He was scared spit-less - Jim was a strong man who'd rather forfeit the limb of his choice than fall apart in front of someone else. Though the meeting had only been last night obviously Jim had been deep in thought all day. It was up to Blair to catch up now and lead his Sentinel to a place where peace could be found.

Jim's sobs slowed and finally stopped. Blair fished a tissue out of the stash he carried in his pockets for Tommy and let Jim clean up a little before pulling his friend close again and tucking Jim's head back over his heart. Jim curled into his side and Blair settled the blanket over the cop too.

"Tell me everything," the command was spoken lovingly and Jim rubbed his cheek on Blair's chest. A patch of his shirt was wet from Jim's tears. The mingled scent was oddly soothing.

"I've got…two months to decide if…if I want it…then they'll…put it up…for adoption…"

The broken sentence was hard to hear, and what went unsaid spoke volumes. Blair hummed again, rubbing Jim's hair and stroking his back and shoulders gently. He didn't push for more, willing to wait Jim out.

"I…I don't want…to give it up…but I…I'm too old to be a Dad…I'm scared…what will Simon think…or Dad…what will you think of me?"

"I think you'll do whatever is right for you. I'll still be here no matter what. You're not too old to start fatherhood Jim, and Simon can go jump off the reservoir for all I care. No matter what your decision is I'll support you, brother. It's going to be ok," Blair crooned and Jim nodded, burrowing closer and going to sleep.

He woke after an hour of uneasy dreams. Blair was still rubbing his back in slow circles and Jim pulled away to sit up, absently tucking the blanket back around Blair and sitting cross-legged beside him.

"Feel better?" Blair asked anxiously and Jim nodded without meeting his eyes, "I can't believe you carried me up the stairs with your arm in a cast!"

Jim shrugged and Blair patted his friend on the knee. It was up to Jim to start this off, Blair couldn't help until he knew where the problem lay - did Jim want to be a Dad or not? The silence became heavy, but still Blair didn't speak. Jim shifted uncomfortably, keeping his eyes on the blanket resolutely. After a few minutes he looked up at Blair's open face and flinched.

"I'm sorry," Jim blurted, "I feel so bad…you never even thought of rejecting Tommy…"

"Hey!" Blair snapped, "Stop it. That was different!"

"No it's not - you didn't know, didn't plan on being a father. You never once thought of just saying no…" Jim contested this point hotly and Blair slapped a hand down onto the mattress. The other man flinched and fell silent - still unsure of Blair's true feelings on the matter and a little scared to find out. A day of circular thinking hadn't helped matters.

"Jim! You are not me! We're very different you and I!" Blair interrupted his whirling thoughts, "I was unplanned, Jim. It just isn't in me to consider it a misfortune that a child was created by two people who were - at the time - in love."

"I don't think you or Tommy are accidents!" Jim gasped and Blair leaned over, putting his hands over Jim's mouth.

"I know," Blair said fiercely, "Don't twist this around. All I'm saying is that you come from a different place. You've always planned your life Jim - I usually don't. Or if I do it's not in the same way. This is a big change for you and you have to do what's best for you. Don't think about the others - about Rachael or Simon or your Dad. Just what's right for you. If you are ready to be a dad…if you're ready to change the whole direction of your life, then adopt the baby and raise it. If you're not, then give the baby up for adoption - let a couple that want a child love it and cherish it. No matter what you decide, Tommy and I will be here for you. I'll help with the daddy stuff, or the single man stuff. Whatever you need, I'm going to be here. I love you, Jim."

Jim leaned forward for a hug, and Blair squeezed hard - trying to give Jim his own strength. Jim's hands fisted in Blair's shirt and he sighed.

"God, I love you so much Chief. You're unconditional. If I quit being a cop tomorrow and started waiting tables in a topless bar you'd still love me," Jim breathed the words in wonder and Blair chuckled. Sounded like he'd broken the circle of Jim's thoughts and they could now come to the decision Jim had to make.

"Although why anyone would hire you to wait topless…or is there something you haven't told me?" Blair eased the mood and Jim laughed weakly at the small joke.

Blair's presence in his life was unconditional. Even if the Sentinel chose to stop being a Sentinel Blair would remain with Jim - they were tied together by more than just genetics.

It was as simple as that, and Jim knew what he had to do now.

"I won't give it up," Jim looked Blair in the eyes and smiled, "Blair…I'm going to be a daddy!"

Blair's smile was full of wonder and joy and Jim let his legs uncurl. He fell into the arms Blair held out to him and snuggled close. Drained by the emotions he'd been fighting, Jim drifted into a deep dreamless sleep.

Blair watched over him until dawn.

0o0o0

"Chief!" Jim's raised voice drifted clearly down the passage to Blair, who rolled his eyes at Tommy and got up. The crutches were gone, as was the walking stick that the therapist had insisted on. Blair still wasn't up to running anywhere - or even climbing more than one flight of stairs - but he was walking almost normally.

"Yes Jim?" Blair asked in a normal tone as he walked towards the corridor. Tommy followed closely behind, carrying Raffey and smiling widely. His uncle had been very entertaining of late - and there was the added excitement of a new baby for Uncle Jim.

"The instructions are wrong!" there was more than a little frustration in Jim's voice and Blair grinned.

"Would you like some help?" Blair kept his voice at conversation level and winked at his son. There was a loaded silence as Jim edited what he wanted to say for young ears. He'd turned down Blair's first offers of help, insisting he'd be ok on his own. Blair had shrugged; told Jim the offer was always open and gone next door to draw with Tommy.

"Yesssssss!" Jim hissed as Blair pushed open the door to his old room. Blair grinned at the crowded confusion in the space he'd once inhabited and shook his head. How had he fit in here? For that matter, how would a growing child?

"Bested by baby furniture, Sentinel of the Great City?" Blair teased lightly, slipping into the room and relieving Jim of the side of the cot the other man was balancing. Jim growled and Tommy giggled. The little boy sat in the doorway to watch as Blair picked up the instructions, read through the Japanese version and then proceeded to put the cot together, directing Jim in a gentle voice as he did.

The room was freshly painted - crisp white walls and ceiling, and the living room boasted new rugs to go into the baby's room. There was a change table - still to be assembled - and a chest of drawers as well as a toy box and bookcase. Blair had contributed a rocking chair for father and baby - also sitting in the living room until it could be moved in - and Tommy had chosen a mobile of wild animals. They had hung the mobile already and Jim was going to put the crib under it - provided they could get it put together.

"How on earth…" Jim trailed off as the cot came together sweetly, and scowled at Blair, "No fair Shaman - you put a spell on it!"

Blair choked, and then laughed incredulously. Jim grinned and helped put the cot into place before winking at Tommy and then starting on the changing table.

Blair's assistance again greased the wheels of progress and in no time they were carrying the boxes out and the chair and rug in. The mattress was added to the cot and Jim made it up carefully with Tommy handing the linen over and supervising while Blair set up the floor lamp that was Simon's gift - it could be dimmed down as a night light or turned up for normal usage.

Jim loaded the gifts from the baby shower onto the shelves of the bookcase - baby powders, nappies (cloth of course, no way was Blair's family contributing to the landfill), various toys, brushes, towels, lotions and baby wipes. A nappy bucket sat under the changing table ready for use.

"It's a real room!" Tommy clapped his hands and bounced on the spot, "When does the baby come home?"

They had told Tommy that Auntie Rachael was giving Uncle Jim a baby, but she didn't want to live in Cascade any more so Uncle Jim would raise the baby by himself.

With Da's help, Jim had amended and Blair had agreed immediately. Tommy had insisted he could help too and Jim had welcomed the offer, more than willing to include Tommy in the preparations for the new arrival. A slightly more adult version had been told to Simon and William Ellison, who had accepted the news after the shock wore off. Brown and Rafe had organized the baby shower - springing it in the bullpen one lunch hour while Jim wrestled with paperwork and sweated out a call to the Jackson's lawyer.

"Not long now," Blair glanced at Jim. Rachael was nearing the end of her pregnancy. She would give birth any time now and Jim was already jumpy every time the phone rang. Tommy looked around the room carefully and Blair rubbed his friend's wrist lightly. Jim gave him a tight smile and straightened a little. The waiting would be over soon.

Tommy bit his lip and then walked over to the cot. They had left the side down and Tommy reached in now, carefully putting Raffey in the middle of the cot.

"Sweetie, we can't play in here," Blair cautioned and was startled at the sheen of tears in Tommy's eyes.

"I'm not playing, Da," Tommy's lip quivered, "I just wanna give Raffey - to help take care of Uncle Jim's baby. You said Raffey was magic Da - the baby needs magic more than I do…"

Jim muffled an exclamation and swept the boy up into his arms, hugging hard and rocking. Such a loving sacrifice, given so freely should be rewarded. And then rejected as carefully as possible - the giraffe was Tommy's first gift from Blair and too precious to give away.

"Thank you sweetie," Jim's voice was rough, "But Raffey is yours. We'll find the baby someone magic of their own. I need to know you're safe too."

Tommy received Raffey back happily, and Blair joined the hug, the two adults holding the boy between them lovingly. This was a favourite hug with all three - what Jim called a 'Tommy sandwich'.

The phone rang and Jim tensed up.

"Don't be scared," Tommy breathed in Jim's ear and then leaned into his father.

Blair tucked his son onto his hip and watched Jim stride out of the nursery. Tommy looked at Blair with wide eyes and Blair made a goofy face back, earning a smile. Jim carried the still ringing handset into the nursery and answered it while standing close to Blair and Tommy.

"Ellison," Jim's voice was even and calm. Blair watched as his jaw clenched immediately and bit his lip. The lawyer got that reaction out of Jim nowadays. Maybe this was the call they were waiting for.

"I see…and Mrs. Jackson? Yes, I know where that is…yes, I'll be there…thank you. Goodbye."

Jim hung up and turned to look at Blair. The big man had a dazed look on his face. Blair felt his heart race and Tommy was quivering with excitement in his arms, his fist clutched in Blair's collar.

"Well?" Blair prompted gently when Jim just stared at him and Tommy. He restrained his urge to shake the answer out of his dazed friend.

"She had it yesterday afternoon. They're ok," Jim blurted, and Tommy bounced on Blair's hip. Unprepared for the action, Blair winced as his body jolted his knee. Jim stepped forward and took Tommy from Blair's grasp immediately. Tommy twisted to look at his father anxiously, who smiled carefully and leaned against the changing table to take the weight off and give the protesting joint time to recover.

"Boy or a girl?" Blair distracted his son, who turned to look at his uncle with bright eyes. Jim's own eyes were shining with excitement. The lines of stress that had taken residence on his face over the last two months were gone, wiped away without a trace.

"A girl," he breathed, "I have a daughter!"

Tommy clapped his hands in excitement and then threw his arms around Jim's neck, dropping a big kiss on Jim's cheek.

"Uncle Jim's a Da!" Tommy crowed and Jim hugged him tightly. Tommy wiggled to get down and hugged Blair's good leg, then let go so Blair could step forward and hug Jim. They thumped each other on the back and made happy little sounds.

"When do you leave?" Blair asked when Jim could let go and he looked around the room before stepping out of it. Energy sizzled through his body, and his mind raced with a hundred and one thoughts. No matter how often Jim had considered this moment the reality swept away his plans.

"Now," Jim replied, "I guess I should get going…Blair…"

"What is it Jim?" Blair put a hand on his friend's arm and felt the muscles relax a little.

"Come with me! I know I said that I should go alone but I can't…."

Jim looked embarrassed and miserable at the same time. Blair knew that his friend was still doubtful about becoming a parent, despite the determined and eager front he'd shown his family, friends and colleagues. Blair bit his lip and wondered how they were going to manage this. Tommy was due to start back at day care tomorrow - this was their last weekend of medical leave, though Jim was starting paternity leave tomorrow - arranged at his request to coincide with the expected delivery date. That meant that Blair would be going to work while Jim stayed home with the baby. Rafe and Brown had had a field day with that one.

"I'll call Simon," Blair told his friend, "You and Tommy start packing, ok? Tommy, help Uncle Jim out."

"Ok Da. C'mon Uncle Jim, we need your bag," Tommy took Jim's hand and tugged the big man towards the stairs while Blair picked up the abandoned phone. Still dazed, Jim followed along meekly.

"Simon, it's Blair," Blair smiled at the gruff voice, "Yeah, we just heard - a daughter, born yesterday afternoon. Jim wants company, so we're all going together. Yeah, I realize that man, that's why I called. I'm not cleared for fieldwork anyway Simon - all I was going to do was desk duty…I can do that from here. I'll come in for the meetings, but Jim needs me right now…a week tops…thanks Simon, you're a prince. You're definitely worth more money… yeah I will…'bye."

Blair hung up and went to pack for himself and his son before hurrying downstairs to transfer the baby capsule from Jim's truck to Blair's Subaru. Jim and Tommy met him down there with the bags - including the one Jim had prepared for the baby for the trip from the hospital to Cascade.

"We're all locked up. Ready to go?" Jim sounded impatient and Blair nodded, swallowing a grin as he lifted Tommy and Raffey into the booster seat and strapped them in. Jim checked the baby capsule over and then got into the passenger seat. Blair shot him a surprised look, but said nothing as he carefully pulled out and headed for the highway.

0o0o0

Jim hesitated at the door of the Maternity ward. Blair put his free hand on the back of Jim's shoulder and waited. Lately it was easier to wait for Jim to confide his fears than to push for him to communicate. Jim didn't need the stress and by now Blair was pretty good at what he privately called 'Jim speak'.

"What if Rachael is there?" Jim whispered and Blair rubbed the shoulder his hand was resting on before tugging at Jim, getting him to turn and look at his Shaman.

"Don't borrow trouble. If she's there we'll wait until she's gone," Blair's voice was calm and determined. Jim nodded once and pushed the door open. Tommy trotted in alongside Blair, holding tight to his father's hand and Raffey.

At Reception Jim inquired hesitantly after Rachael Jackson/Collins.

"Oh, the Ellison baby," the young woman on the desk nodded, her face alive with curiosity, "She's in the baby ward, cot twelve."

"Thank you," Jim looked for the signs that would lead to the ward and missed the young woman's intense gaze. Jim spotted the right direction and headed off.

Blair lingered for a moment. Something was not right here.

"Is there a problem?" he asked the woman behind the desk. She shot him a startled look and then looked down at Tommy, who smiled at the pretty lady with his usual charm.

"No!" she waved a hand, "Goodness, no. It's just the first time we've had a gay surrogate at the hospital! Everyone's a little curious."

"Actually, what you have is an adulterous woman leaving her lover to raise her unwanted progeny," Blair deliberately picked words that Tommy wouldn't clue into, "Spare him the gossip, ok?"

She nodded, her face blushing, and Blair smiled down at his son.

"C'mon short stuff," he grinned at the curious face, "Let's go find Uncle Jim and your cousin."

"Yeah!" Tommy bounced on his toes and they followed the signs. Even though they were five minutes behind Jim, he still hadn't gone into the ward. Blair picked Tommy up so the little boy could see through the observation window and asked the still man which one was cot twelve. The new father pointed numbly and Blair looked at his niece.

She was still a little raw looking - the way most newborns are. She had blond wisps of hair curling on her little head and her hands were clenched into fists in her sleep. She was wrapped in a plain green blanket.

"Have you gone in?" Blair asked, knowing the answer was no. Jim shook his head and Blair rolled his eyes, "Well she's certainly not coming out to you, my friend. Go on in there and meet your daughter. Shoo now!"

Jim jolted and took three steps before his brain caught up with his body. He shot Blair a faintly admiring look but kept walking. Blair and Tommy watched him go inside and speak to the duty nurse.

The smell of babies overwhelmed the smell of the hospital for Jim and the Sentinel in him was glad. Hospitals always smelled of blood and other bodily waste. Occasionally he'd smell decay and the stench of what he could only think of as death as he passed by certain rooms or wards. The day Jim smelt that coming from his Guide's room was the day he'd kill them both.

A nurse with green eyes and short red hair put him in an armchair in the corner, designed for first time snuggles and new fathers. It was padded and comfortable. Jim spent a few seconds stroking the soft fabric on the chair arm before the nurse returned and leant over to place his daughter in his arms.

She was even smaller than she looked - or so it felt to Jim as he froze in an effort not to jostle her. The nurse was used to this reaction, and carefully positioned Jim so he was holding the baby properly and would be reasonably comfortable until the shock wore off.

Unaware of the naked joy and wonder on his face, Jim stroked a delicate finger over the perfect face of his daughter. She stirred but didn't wake as he rocked a little on the spot. Her heartbeat and breathing were fast - as was the norm for babies - and Jim spent a moment imprinting it on his memory before turning to her scent. His nose tickled alarmingly and Jim hastily turned scent back down to two - below normal. The powder the hospital used was almost sickeningly sweet. Jim unwrapped the blanket and stroked his finger over the tiny arms and legs. He wrapped her back up and then looked up at the observation window.

Blair's smile was brilliant and Tommy was pressed up against the glass. Both of them were watching avidly - Jim had felt the touch of their eyes and was comforted by their presence.

"She's beautiful," Blair's voice reached Jim's ears easily and Tommy nodded vigorously. Jim smiled at his brother and then looked back down as the baby in his arms stirred. Pale blue eyes just like his own blinked up at him short sightedly. She turned her head and pursed her lips, looking to suckle on the finger that stroked her cheek.

"She's ready for a feed," the nurse broke in on Jim's delight and he accepted the bottle she held out. His daughter suckled easily, smacking her lips and making little grunting noises. When the bottle was empty the nurse helped Jim lift her into position and burp her, a towel draped over one shoulder as she squirmed and then spat up a little milk. The sour smell caught Jim at the back of the throat and his nose wrinkled involuntarily, getting a smile from the nurse. This was also a common reaction in first time fathers.

"You'll get used to it," she counselled and helped Jim shift his daughter back to the crook of his arm, "You can talk to her for a little while if you like. She'll go back to sleep soon. Have you decided on a name?"

"No," Jim frowned, "Didn't her mother name her?"

"Not that one," the nurse snorted, "She hasn't had anything to do with this little angel since she gave birth to her. While she's still in the hospital we've been expressing her milk to give to the baby - but we'll have to switch to formula soon. She's leaving tomorrow."

Jim nodded, trying not to let his anger show. Rachael was rejecting her daughter as surely as Grace had rejected her sons.

"How much baby experience have you had?" the nurse continued, and Jim looked up sheepishly.

"I went to a course at the local community centre," he confessed, remembering how out of place he'd felt, "I graduated."

"Good," the nurse smiled, "That's a good start. We'll help you out for a few days - it's hospital policy to do a little hands on training before releasing the baby and…parents. Will your lover be helping you?"

"My what?" Jim frowned and then looked over at Blair and Tommy, who were still pressed up against the glass, watching; "Oh! He's not my lover - he's my brother. And yes, he'll be helping out."

"Oh, I'm sorry…I wasn't judging you," the nurse blushed and Jim grinned. The baby in his arms was slowly drifting off to sleep and he gazed down at her for a moment before looking up at the nurse. How could anyone feel angry while cradling such a beautiful child?

"It's ok," he reassured her, "Can they come in?"

"If they're quiet," the nurse meant Tommy of course, "Will your sister in law be helping out too?"

"She died last year. It's been just the three of us…four now," Jim's eyes carried a clear warning and the nurse nodded before turning and gesturing Blair and Tommy in. Blair spoke to his son for a moment and then walked to the door. Blair sat on the floor in front of Jim with Tommy in his lap.

"She's so small," Blair whispered and Tommy nodded. The little boy was in awe of the baby nestled in his uncle's arms. He reached out a cautious finger and stroked the nearest fold of blanket gently before putting his hand back in his lap.

"What's her name?" Tommy whispered and Blair looked up at his partner curiously. They'd never picked a name out - both men had assumed that Rachael would name her child. Jim gazed down at his daughter and shook his head.

"She doesn't have one," he replied. A frown crossed Blair's face and then he bounced on the spot, making Tommy giggle softly, then glance around nervously to see if he'd been too noisy.

"Who does she look like?" Blair asked and stroked his son's back lightly, settling the four-year-old and reassuring him. Jim glanced up at his Guide, a question in his eyes.

"Who is she, Jim? When you look at her, who do you see?"

Jim smiled down at his daughter and gave his friend the name that popped instantly to mind, as Blair no doubt intended.

"Clare Therese Ellison."

0o0o0

Simon watched as Jim Ellison - Sentinel of the Great City, Detective of the Year and nemesis of criminals everywhere - cradled Clare Ellison in his arms and cooed.

"The sap levels in this place have rocketed," Simon accepted the coffee Blair was holding out and grinned at the indignant look his remark received. Jim was oblivious to everything but his daughter and his nephew, who was pressed up against his side and cooing too.

"Is he ok?" Simon looked over at Blair who nodded. He knew what Simon was thinking - hell, he'd worried about this himself. So far there was no indication that Clare Ellison had inherited her father's abilities - but then Blair wasn't expecting any such signal until she was at least two years old - the stage when babies became fully aware of the world around them, but were still egocentric enough to only be concerned with how it affected them.

"So far," Blair confirmed, "No Sentinel reactions beyond complete cowardice when it comes to changing nappies. At least he can dial the smell down, the rest of us just have to suck it up and deal."

Simon laughed hard, almost spilling his coffee at that home truth. Jim grinned at his boss and rejoined the adult world. Blair had become used to this phenomenon. His son was still stroking his niece's blanket, totally absorbed in her.

"The gig has some perks after all," Jim crowed and Blair rolled his eyes.

"Well, Jim, I guess that perk means you get nappy duty from now on. What do you think Simon? It would be cruel of me to deny him the chance to exercise his perks," Blair appealed to Simon over Jim's sputtering and Simon nodded judiciously.

"You're right, Sandburg," Simon agreed, "It would be cruel. As an officer of the law it's my duty to uphold Jim's right to exercise his few perks."

"Fine," Jim fumed, "And when Clare 'perks' she's all yours, Chief."

Blair rolled his eyes. Clare had been a bit colicky on the formula the hospital had suggested, 'perking up' her feed more often than not until Blair had found a better substitute. The rocking chair in the nursery had seen a lot of action as the new father and his brother tried to soothe the unsettled baby. Tommy had taken to sitting on the floor nearby with his toys, keeping whichever adult was on duty company while Clare fretted and fussed.

Blair thought how lucky they were Tommy hadn't exhibited any of the normal sibling rivalry symptoms that so many people had warned them about. He and Jim had tried to include Tommy as much as possible, and Blair had scheduled some 'Tommy time' into each day for father and son activities. So far they had staved off the worst of the inevitable jealousy and insecurity a new baby engendered - Blair hoped that would continue.

"So Jim, it's been three weeks. When will the rest of the gang be able to visit?" Simon put the empty cup on its coaster and raised an eyebrow at his detective. Jim looked over at Blair, who smiled and shrugged. They had to go out sometime - and Clare was old enough to withstand the mild weather if they were careful.

"Uh, how about next Saturday? During the day?" Jim suggested. The weather forecast was good, and truth be told, the idea of showing off his daughter was very appealing.

"We could go to the park," Blair grinned, "Make a family day of it - we haven't done that in ages. Can Daryl come?"

"Yeah!" Tommy tuned into the conversation and slowly and carefully eased away from Jim and Clare before bouncing over to Simon and putting his arms up to be picked up. Simon obliged readily, settling his adopted nephew on one knee and pretending to groan under the weight. Tommy merely giggled and repeated his question.

"I'll have to call him and find out," Simon told the boy, "I'm sure he'd love to come."

"Cool!" Tommy clapped his hands and bounced. Simon let his knee collapse and Tommy shrieked as his uncle 'saved' him. Clare startled in Jim's arms and began to cry. Jim sighed and got up, walking towards the nursery to soothe and calm his daughter.

"I'm sorry," Tommy looked chagrined and Blair shook his head, smiling and leaning over to tousle his son's hair.

"Don't be sorry," Blair's voice was light, "You didn't do it on purpose. We're not mad."

"It's ok, Tommy," Simon added, hugging the little boy close for a moment, "It was a mistake is all."

The soft wails stopped and after a few minutes Jim came out of the nursery and put his arms out for Tommy, hugging the boy tenderly and dropping a kiss on his hair.

"I didn't mean to make her cry," Tommy's voice was too soft for the others to hear. Jim smiled at him and squeezed lightly.

"I know, short stuff," Jim made sure his voice was happy, "No one is mad at you. Clare's ok, she's gone to sleep. How about you and I go to the park? We haven't been in ages."

"Da too?" Tommy looked over at his father. Blair shook his head.

"Sorry, sweetie, someone has to stay with Clare. You and Uncle Jim can go together," Blair replied. Simon got up from the couch. He couldn't bear to see Tommy's crestfallen face - especially when the fault had been his.

"I could stay," he offered, "I've taken care of babies before."

"You sure, Simon?" Jim asked, "It's been a while since Daryl was a baby."

"The skills are good anywhere, Jim. Why don't the three of you go out for a while? You can take a phone if you're worried," Simon raised his eyebrows and Jim nodded, heading for the door with Tommy still in his arms. Blair grinned, got up too and slapped Simon on the arm before following his brother and son.

"We won't be long," Blair said as he passed and Simon nodded. When the door closed he let the frown cross his face. Usually Blair would leap up and literally bounce out the door to spend some time in the rare spring sunshine.

Since the knee injury Blair had seemed to…slow down a bit. True, he had regained full range of movement and the department physicians had cleared him for active duty, but lately the Sandburg energy had been muted. Simon hoped that the effort of caring for a son, niece and Sentinel wasn't draining the young man beyond his strength.

Simon turned and walked quietly into the nursery.

He had seen the room when Jim was painting it and marvelled at the size of the space that confined the irrepressible Sandburg. It was tiny. Standing in the doorway now, Simon grinned at the simple furniture and solid colours that dominated the room.

A part of Simon had been expecting heaps of pink and frills - after all Jim was a doting daddy and very proud of his new daughter. In Simon's experience, doting daddy's tended to go overboard on the girlie stuff unless their wives - something Jim lacked - reined them in. Clare had been spared the frippery. The captain's experienced eyes separated the Ellison touches from the Sandburg touches.

Jim had chosen the furniture; it was hardwearing and multipurpose without the usual ugliness that came with such things. The rocking chair was Blair's - a wide seated wicker chair with wings and bright cushions. The rug was Jim's, a bright thick tri-coloured oval with a simple geometric design. The curtains on the French doors were from Blair, plain unadorned calico with lots of pockets for toys and other such objects. The picture above the changing table was definitely Jim's - a print of a jungle scene, with a waterfall and clearing. The framed nursery rhyme with a border of wild animals that hung above the cot was Blair's - the rhyme itself was from Africa.

The room was neat, and carefully organized so that everything you needed was close to hand. The changing table was placed close to the supplies a baby needed for nappy and clothes changes. The cot was near the rocking chair. The toys were placed where a crawling baby would be able to reach them, though Clare had yet to roll over by herself, let alone sit up and crawl.

The baby in the cot stirred for a brief moment and then sighed, going back to sleep. Simon grinned and went back out to the couch, turning the game on and reducing the volume to avoid disturbing her. There had been no baby monitors in the nursery, but with Jim around they didn't need one.

Sure saves on batteries and arguments about who forgot to turn it on Simon mused and settled in to watch the game.

0o0o0

Blair listened to the earpiece crackle with status reports, looked around the street corner and sighed. Jim would kill him if he knew, but the Sentinel was still on paternity leave and therefore blissfully unaware that his Guide was helping Narcotics in their bust of the latest of warehouse drug labs. This particular group moved fairly regularly - usually the cops got to the lab after it was abandoned. The city had already had a rash of deaths from the newest drug, called Fresh Haze; Blair was determined to get it off the streets as soon as possible. The drug had similar properties to Golden - adding a personal motivation to Blair's efforts.

Ironically, they were in Blair's old neighbourhood. He suppressed a grin and focussed on the targeted warehouse. A week of steady surveillance had let him plot the traffic in this area. The bums and street people avoided certain areas, as did the hookers and winos. The gangs were harder to track - their territory was nebulous at the best of times, borders changing on a daily, sometimes hourly basis.

By plotting the human traffic in the area Blair had managed to locate the drug lab - by the simple credo of watching for a place that everyone avoided. No one went near someone else's drug lab unless they were looking to get into major trouble. The cops had a fair idea of all the major players in this drug lab and - thanks to Blair - had managed to identify a few more, making the job easier. In the course of his work Blair had spotted the neighbourhood fakes - winos and others that the drug manufacturers had planted in the area to keep watch. It had taken the consultant weeks of intensive work and a little undercover role-playing of his own to work all of this out. He'd started early and worked late, filling an entire interrogation room with his notes charts and files.

Dressed in old clothes that were bad enough to pass, but not so bad they'd draw attention - an outfit designed to give him maximum range of movement - Blair lounged against the building behind him and watched the fake wino across the way check him out.

The plan was to distract the man long enough for the SWAT teams to get into position and take him out with minimum fuss. From there they'd have egress into the lab. Narcotics had borrowed heavily from other departments for this bust, and Blair caught sight of Rafe and Brown preparing to go in with SWAT on his way to his own post. He knew that Connor and Simon were nearby too and Taggert was waiting in the wings in case the teams found any little 'gifts' the gang had set up to discourage trespassers.

Blair stared at the 'wino' deliberately, provoking him with body language. The man was getting twitchy, and dropping in and out of character. Blair restrained a grin and rubbed his jaw, eyeing the man off calmly. His opponent spat in the gutter, hitched his too-good-for-a-wino trousers and started across the road, his pace too even for the drunk he was supposed to be.

"Hey, I don't have any money, so don't ask," Blair taunted as the man got into hearing range, and then turned and sauntered off, slipping down the alley where the rest of his team waited. The 'wino' took the bait, cursing and following him. Sergeant Wiles from Narcotics arrested him without fuss and passed him to an officer to escort to the waiting vehicles two blocks away.

"Good work, Sandburg," Wiles nodded and passed the word that the access point was clear. Blair slipped the bulletproof vest on and prepared to go in behind the troops. This particular group of scumbags used illegal immigrants to make their product - and Blair was the PD's best hope of keeping the unwilling workers from entering the fray on the side of their employers. He would be able to defuse the situation quickly while the PD focussed on the bosses. Wiles and his team would accompany Blair every step of the way to ensure his safety and assist in the crowd control. At least that was the plan. Things went wrong almost immediately. The SWAT team was spotted setting up on the adjacent rooftop. Later Sandburg heard that it was a stray flash from a scope that alerted them to the presence of the team.

All the people on the ground knew was that the men in the lab suddenly started evacuating out of any exit they could, guns blazing. Wiles went down with a bullet to the thigh and Blair threw himself across the open space to get him to cover. Tearing Wiles shirt into strips he dressed the wound quickly and made sure that Wiles was ok. Then Blair headed for the warehouse. There were still prisoners in there that would need a friendly face and an interpreter. Help was on the way for Wiles - the Sergeant would last until it could reach him.

Blair went in behind Rafe's team, slipping away from the action to the basement where the forced labour was being held captive. They were held in their prison by a padlock, securing the trapdoor that was their only way out. Blair ascertained that he could speak their language and pick the lock if they had to evacuate fast. He called reassurances to the people trapped below him but refused to open the trapdoor. He knew that the first chance they got the prisoners would scatter and disappear. Immigration wanted these people in custody. They would be assessed for genuine refugee status and most likely deported. While Blair sympathized with their plight, he couldn't afford to let them out. There was no telling what their reasons for leaving their homeland were, and what they'd do if given the chance to escape. Were they victims or trouble? They certainly wouldn't be too cooperative with the cops in their dash for freedom.

There was a sound nearby and Blair slid into cover cautiously. The fight was coming this way and he was unarmed - as usual - though he could defend himself if necessary. Blair spared a fleeting thought to his Sentinel and the children before tracing the sound to the far wall.

There was a man crouched there jabbing at something Blair couldn't see. His head turned and Blair recognized him as Carl Covey - one of the ringleaders of this not-so-merry crew. Blair listened to Carl shouting at his prisoners and moved carefully closer, trying to see what Covey was doing. All his instincts were screaming there was danger - not just to him, but all the people in this building.

A slow peek over a crate and Blair dropped back to the ground, shaking in disbelief. Their criminals had rigged a self-destruct for the building. Covey was arming it and setting the timer as he watched. Blair froze as the countdown started from five minutes and Covey ran for the nearest exit. Blair waited until he was clear before grabbing for the radio clipped to his collar and risking a transmission. There was no antenna and the few facts that Taggert had taught Blair about bombs suggested the device was not sensitive to radio waves.

"Pull out - he's armed a bomb! Four minutes fifty seconds and counting!" Blair shouted across the transmissions crackling in his earpiece and heard confirmations and orders to pull back, "Taggert - he's headed your way!"

Blair ran to the trapdoor and fished out his pocketknife, slipping open the pick on it and tackling the lock. The people trapped below were screaming and pounding on the locked trapdoor as Blair struggled to pop the padlock and free them.

"Sandburg! Where are you?" Simon's voice blasted in Blair's ear and he flinched, dropping the tool from sweaty fingers.

"Not now Simon," Blair growled to himself, retrieved the tool and started again.

The people below had fallen silent and Blair was glad of the respite. The gunfire had stopped as everyone evacuated the building before it blew.

"Sandburg!" Simon bellowed again and the lock popped free. Blair hauled up the trapdoor, yelling down to the prisoners, who surged up the ladder, following his pointing hand to the nearest exit. He grabbed for the radio and silenced Simon's next call.

"On the way out with the prisoners!" Blair yelled, hauling the last one - a pregnant woman who was struggling with the ladder - along by the arm, risking a glance towards the timer. His knee slammed off a crate in passing and Blair swore, tightening his grip and pulling her faster. They blasted out through the doors, the prisoners heading straight for the shelter of a nearby police bus and the cops that were waving them on, yelling encouragement.

Blair rounded the corner of the vehicle as the building blew. The force of it sent him and the woman tumbling, slamming into the asphalt and gasping for air as the force of the blast blew past them. Debris rained down and Blair threw his body over the woman instinctively.

After a moment everything was still and silent. Blair lifted his head cautiously as the smoke and dust eddied around the street, looking at the frozen bodies of his colleagues, former prisoners and the criminals who had started the whole thing. The woman beneath him groaned loudly. As if it were a signal the frozen tableau shattered. People started moving, arresting, giving aid and comfort, rescuing where needed. Blair lifted himself off cautiously and checked his charge before rolling her onto her side. She was clutching her belly and as Blair watched a contraction rippled across it. He yelled for a medic, heard the call answered and leant over, trying to ease her into a better position.

"Dammit Sandburg! Ellison is going to kill me!" Simon bellowed as he stormed towards them. Blair grinned up at his boss and then returned his attention to the new life starting before him.

0o0o0

Epilogue

"Where's Tommy?" Blair sat on the couch, Clare facing him. The afternoon sun was warm through the glass and made his niece's hair glow gold. Clare turned to look at Tommy, laughing and leaning over to pat at his face. Clare wore the one-piece rompers that her grandfather had bought for her - a plain pink suit that had snap buttons and feet. She was glowing from all the attention and playing to her audience.

"That's right!" Blair praised the baby. Clare Ellison in a playful and happy mood was a charming sight. Tommy laughed too, capturing the hands to kiss them before letting go. Blair heard the front door open and his partner hang his jacket up. He smiled, knowing that the Sentinel had probably been listening to them for the last few blocks and all the way upstairs. Tommy hadn't even noticed his uncle come in as he played with his cousin and father.

"Where's Clare?" Blair continued the game, knowing Jim wouldn't mind watching his baby show off her smarts. Clare patted herself on the head, laughing and making 'bub-bub-bub' noises. Tommy pressed into Blair's side, giggling at her antics and rubbing his cheek on Blair's sleeve. Blair leaned down to drop a kiss on Tommy's hair.

"Such a smart girl!" Blair crowed, jiggling her a little and laughing, "Where's Blair?"

Clare leant forward and patted Blair's mouth. He blew raspberries on the small hands, and she squealed, patting harder before clapping her hands.

"Where's Daddy?" Blair felt Jim lean against the back of the couch and Clare looked up, her whole face lighting in that special smile she got whenever she spotted her father for the first time. It always took Blair's breath away to witness the love shining from Clare's face as she gazed at her father. Jim's answering look was just as incandescent - the two of them lit up in each other's company.

"Mum-mum!" Clare shouted in her soft voice and raised her arms appealingly.

Tommy laughed so hard he fell back on the couch and Blair felt his face split in an enormous grin. The look on Jim's face was priceless. On the one hand it was the first time Clare had named him, other than the soft noises she made while he tended her. Clare was obviously trying to communicate here, and Jim was her first word. The baby's arms waved insistently in an effort to get her father to come closer. On the other hand, she was calling him 'mum' - and he'd never identified himself as that. He always called himself 'Daddy' when speaking to Clare.

"Mum-mum! Mum-mum!" Clare insisted and Jim had no choice but to reach down and take his baby from his laughing brother. Her little feet kicked in the air until Jim's other arm came around to scoop her close to his chest. As always, contact with his daughter sent Jim's senses into a spike as he catalogued her scent, breathing, heart rate and temperature. She was healthy and happy, and Jim's senses relaxed to normal again. Blair's scent mingled with Clare's, soothing Jim in a way that never failed to astonish him - the unique combination of his Guide and daughter spoke to something instinctual in him. Jim shook himself back to the present as Clare squirmed in his arms and called him again.

"Hey beautiful," Jim cooed and kissed her soundly, "Daddy's home!"

"Mum-mum," Clare insisted and snuggled close, patting her father's face and repeating the word over and over again. There was such contentment in her voice that Jim felt a tingle of warmth. He wondered wryly how long it would be before his daughter was telling him to stay out of her life. Jim put the thought aside - time for that later, along with the first boyfriend, date and that first step into adulthood. Life was good.

"Did you put her up to this Chief?" Jim asked and Blair tried to get enough air to speak. After several attempts he calmed down, reaching out to stroke his son back to sensibility. Tommy calmed down and sat up on his knees, facing his uncle and cousin over the back of the couch. The little boy was still grinning hard and hiccupped occasionally with laughter.

"Nope," Blair grinned, tipping his head back to look his brother in the eye, "Actually Jim, she's at the stage where a few vowel's, B's and mmm's are all she can manage. Most babies' first words are mum and bub. She's got the mum down pat. The 'd' sound is too hard for her at first. She's been making chat to you for ages - she must have figured that a certain sound gets your attention. Now she's just using that sound loudly. She'll probably call you mum until she can say dad. Don't freak, ok?"

"Yeah," Jim smiled at his beautiful daughter, "I was just remembering a comment you made back in New York…never mind sweetheart, Daddy can wait."

"Mum-mum," Clare cooed and leaned into her father's strong arms.

0o0o0

…End Life…

…Begin Trials…


	6. Trials

Trials

by Shedoc

0o0o0

"Okay Daryl, the numbers are on the fridge," Blair grinned at the colourfully dressed teen. Daryl grinned back at him. This was the teens first babysitting job for Tommy and Clare and Jim had already briefed the teen three times before Blair managed to break it up and get his partner out the door and into the hall. Now it was Blair's turn. Daryl had figured the roles would be reversed - Blair would be the compulsive worrier and Jim would take a more casual approach.

Apparently the opposite was true in this family and Daryl had heard his father say that Sandburg and Ellison were always proving him wrong.

"We'll be home by twelve," Blair promised, a twinkle in his eyes. It was as if he could tell what Daryl was thinking and the teen chuckled involuntarily. Blair chuckled back and winked before turning to his son. Freshly bathed and wearing brightly patterned pyjamas, Tommy Sandburg was bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet with excitement. He loved having Daryl visit while his father and uncle were away because his cousin would let him do adult things like homework, instead of just playing games like his aunts, uncles and Poppy did.

"Have fun!" Tommy piped up and Blair bent down to give him a goodnight hug.

"Enjoy the game, Blair," Daryl nodded and watched Tommy kiss Blair goodbye with lots of snuggles and whispers. Even after a year together Tommy still craved touch from adults. He wasn't clingy though - lately his independence had been developing in leaps and bounds. If this was a good thing was yet to be determined - Tommy could be stubborn when he wanted to be, despite his usually even temper and sunny nature.

"Ready to draw some pictures?" Daryl asked as the door closed and Tommy's face lit up. The boy loved to draw - both his father's loft and Jim's were full of pictures Tommy drew and hung up. Simon and Joel had also been given pictures to put up - Simon's hung on the fridge at home and Joel's was up on the side of his desk at work. William Ellison was apparently collecting a portfolio of the work - whenever a picture was 'retired', Poppy collected it.

Tommy gathered his drawing materials and followed Daryl into Jim's half of the loft. They would spend most of their time there in order to be near the sleeping baby. They chose to sit on cushions on the floor in front of the coffee table.

Daryl found a nature program on cable to play quietly in the background that he knew Blair approved of and started on his homework while Tommy drew beside him.

Daryl had learnt to put his books away from Tommy and on the floor so no pictures would find their way into them - after learning the hard way and handing in a report to be marked that had one of Tommy's masterpieces on it. The little boy had been very sorry, but Daryl's teacher had liked the picture and even commented on it. Tommy had worried that the homework he did with Daryl would stop - the little boy was fascinated with books and the idea of learning, a trait he got from his father the scholar. Daryl had discussed it with Simon and bought Tommy a 'homework book' of his own - it was this book the boy was drawing in now.

Immersed in their work, neither teen nor child noticed the shadow on the balcony.

0o0o0

Blair confiscated Jim's phone in the truck and fixed his partner with a solid glare.

"We are going out, Jim. That means no kids, no worries, and no responsibilities. You will not hassle poor Daryl to death. Clare is old enough to sleep through the night now, and she was fine when you tucked her up. Tommy will go to bed happily and Daryl will be able to feel good about a job well done. Simon will be proud of his son, and the gang will get to spend some time with Jim and Blair - not Detective and Consultant, or Da and Daddy, or Sentinel and Guide. So I'm ordering you to just relax, ok?"

"Sheesh," Jim grumbled, starting the truck and pulling out, "Sounds like you need to chill, Chief. Good thing I'm dragging you out tonight."

Blair stared, closed his mouth and then shook his head. Jim's lips were twitching with poorly suppressed amusement and his friend chuckled and then laughed. A friendly hand slapped an arm, hair was ruffled and two men relaxed.

The parking was as tricky as usual, and they ended up having to walk quite a distance to the entrance, and then had a second hike to the seats where they were meeting the gang. They'd won the tickets at the PD softball competition and planned to make a night of it.

Rafe was already there, a beer in hand and a grin on his face. Brown arrived a few minutes later and there was the general confusion of greetings and sitting down.

"Did you brief Daryl?" he asked as they settled down and Blair rolled his eyes.

"Three times," Blair confided in a teasing tone, "And what a tantrum we had when it was time to go - kicking and screaming and hanging onto the furniture!"

"Tommy?" Rafe asked incredulously and Jim groaned. He knew where this one was going.

"Jim!" Blair grinned as he delivered the punch line and Rafe laughed hard, leaning back in his seat while Jim whapped his partner and the two men sparred back and forth. Blair left to go get them a beer and some peanuts while Jim settled into his seat and fiddled with the dials to get comfortable. Megan, Simon and Joel arrived just as Blair returned with a tray of beers. He was greeted with smiles and enthusiasm, as he was promptly relieved of his burden, and left to sit on the aisle seat.

Megan - who was sitting next to him - rolled her eyes and glanced around. The stadium was full of people in the team colours and dressed in outlandish costumes as far as the eye could see. In Jim's case that was quite a distance.

"Busy tonight," she grinned at Blair and he shrugged, then nodded.

"Usually is when Cascade comes up against these guys - bad blood, don't you know," he replied, "Brings the fans out in hordes."

"Actual hordes or just hypothetical ones?" Megan settled in and Blair grinned. This was one of their latest games, one that he enjoyed a lot.

"Hypothetical ones," he went along with the bull easily, "The actual ones cost too much to rent."

"Really? You guys don't have Rent-a-Horde out here? They're very big back home," Megan feigned astonishment and Blair grinned at her, leaning back in his seat. Megan could always be counted on for a bit of light-hearted BS.

"Rent-a-Horde, huh? Do you have their number? We used Hordes-'R-Us; they have chains all over the country."

"Oh yeah, they started up back home but never really made it. We prefer to support local industry," Megan's tone was mocking and superior and Blair lost it, laughing hard and tapping her hand lightly to concede their game. She grinned back at him and they turned to watch the game.

Half time saw Jim a bit twitchy and eyeing his partner, wondering how hard he'd have to tackle Blair to get the phone off him. Simon thwarted that plan by asking if he should check up on Daryl. Jim knew the teenager would be crushed if his father did that and talked Simon out of the idea, knowing that if he called home now his boss would call him a hypocrite. From the knowing grin Blair gave Simon, Jim figured out that he'd been set up and conceded the point with good grace. Clare did sleep the night through and Tommy was a sweet tempered child that would do as he was told. Daryl was competent and trustworthy - there was no need to check. Besides, the teen could be trusted to call if anything came up that he couldn't handle. If there was one thing a cop's child learnt, it was when to call for backup.

After the game, the gang hit a bar for a few rounds of pool and shooting the breeze, before splitting up to go home. Brown drove Rafe and Megan caught a ride with Joel. Blair was designated driver for his household and Simon was following the truck to pick up his son before heading home too.

The lights were off in the loft, but Jim wasn't worried about that. Blair had told Daryl it was ok to go to sleep once Tommy was settled for the night. Jim had expected the teen would be staying up late, but evidently their sitter was more tired than they'd thought.

The two men waited for their boss and then strolled up the three flights of stairs, talking quietly about the game and then work. As they stepped out into the corridor, Jim's senses flared up and his arm shot out, barring any further movement.

"My front door is open," Jim said it very quietly and felt Blair's heart rate jump into overtime. He heard Simon's sharp breath and gritted his teeth. Neither cop had taken their gun to the game.

Blair's hand rested on the Sentinel's arm gently. Jim felt his senses respond as always - settling and focusing automatically in response to his Guide's touch and scent. His own heart rate slowed and evened as his body prepared for action.

A glance showed Blair to be ready too, though his face was pale and his eyes wide.

Sentinel and Guide moved smoothly down the corridor. A sweep of the joined house showed only one occupant - whoever it was, he was unconscious.

"The babies are gone!" His body followed Jim's cry as he rushed to confirm his worst nightmare. Clare's cot was empty, the blankets missing from it as well.

Simon's cry of shock had Jim running back to the living room of his loft.

Daryl was slumped back against the couch. There were lines of white powder on the table and some of it dusted his nostrils and shirt. Simon was kneeling beside his unconscious son, tapping his cheeks and calling his name in an effort to bring him to consciousness. Something in Jim snapped and he crossed the room swiftly, grabbing for Daryl with a cry of rage. Simon intercepted him, defending his son from the furious man, yelling in parental outrage. They struggled together until a smaller form insinuated itself between the two men and literally slapped Jim back.

"Stop it! This isn't helping!"

"He brought drugs into our home! Our children are gone!" Jim screamed in fury and was toppled to the floor when Blair deliberately tangled one leg around Jim's and threw his weight forward. Slapping the floor automatically to absorb the impact the Sentinel found himself nose-to-nose with his Guide.

"Focus damn you," Blair's voice was a hiss, "Find them!"

Jim cast his senses out, in an attempt to trace where the children's scent had gone. Blair got off him, crouching next to his Sentinel as he monitored and supported the effort. Both men were ignoring Simon, who had returned to Daryl's side and called for help.

"Someone else was here," Jim rasped finally, "Broke in and went to the nursery and then next door. Left through your fire escape. Daryl didn't even try to stop them - they stood there and looked at him, but there's no scent of his along their route!"

"Ok, file the scent away," Blair coached, his voice shaking with the stress of holding his partner together, "Remember it for later. We need to get up and look the loft over for physical evidence."

"Chief," Jim whispered and Blair's eyes closed. For a moment the naked grief he felt showed on his face and then he straightened, touching Jim's arm and urging him up. Time to grieve later - right now they had to find their children.

0o0o0

When Blair remembered to turn their cell phones back on both phones beeped to indicate voice mail. Daryl had been rushed to hospital in an ambulance, a grim Simon at his side. Blair had called Joan to tell her where to meet her son, and then promptly forgot all about the teen as he directed his partner in their forensic efforts. He had to calm Jim down when the rest of the department arrived to do the same job.

Jim's jaw clenched as he listened to his voice mail and he swung on his partner furiously. Brian Rafe and Henri Brown blanched at the cold fury in their colleagues' face as he went for the smaller man.

"Dammit! If you hadn't turned the phones off…!" Jim bellowed grabbing his partner and shaking him hard. Before Rafe or Brown could intercede Blair broke Jim's hold and shoved his friend away. The anthropologist hadn't spent the last five years with the cops without learning a thing or two about self defence and threat assessment. Plus, he was just as mad as the man shaking him was.

"I know!" Blair almost screamed, "I know, ok! If I hadn't turned the phone off then we would've got the messages in time. It's my fault they're gone, it's my fault Daryl's in the hospital! I know, ok! I don't need you reciting the list of things I did wrong right now!"

The pain and terror in Blair's voice broke through to Jim better than anything else could have and he regained control in an instant. Blair's scent spoke of guilt and fear and pain and grief, his heartbeat was erratic, his breathing close to hyperventilation. Jim's face crumbled in pain and he reached out gentle hands, pulling the vibrating man closer to him and holding on tight. A muffled sob reached his ears and Jim cursed himself for a fool. There was no way to see into the future and hindsight was twenty-twenty.

"It's not your fault, Chief. God, I'm sorry. You weren't to know that Quinn was on the loose. Even if we'd got the message in time we still might not have been able to stop him," Jim's voice was rough, but his arms were gentle, "Shhh, it's ok. I didn't mean it."

"I did," the voice was choked and Jim buried his face in Blair's hair. He could feel the tears soaking his shirt and shed a few of his own. Blair's arms settled around his waist cautiously and Jim pulled him in even tighter. Two fists knotted themselves into his shirt as the other man held on desperately.

"Well you're wrong," Jim said staunchly, "We'll get them back, Chief. No way is Quinn hurting our kids. Come on now, I need you focussed and with me. I can't do this by myself. I'm sorry about the meltdown - I know it's not your fault."

"Fear based responses," Blair mumbled and Jim nodded, rocking them both a little, "We're ok now?"

"Yeah we are. If you can forgive me," Jim let Blair pull back a little. His friend's tear ravaged face was pale and strained and the smile he got was watery to say the least, but Blair was back on line again - they both were.

"Forgiven," the whisper was a promise and Jim touched their foreheads together before letting go. Blair swiped the tears away and ran his hands through his hair before straightening and turning to look at the activity in their home. As if this was the signal she'd been waiting for the new Chief of Forensics - a black woman by the name of Felicity Dunn - approached the two men. Cassie Welles had decided to move on when Cascade failed to provide her with the opportunities for advancement she craved. So far Dunn hadn't crossed paths with Major Crimes. She was developing a reputation for thorough and timely work - right now that was good enough for Jim.

"Detective Ellison, Dr. Sandburg - I need you to tell me if there is anything else missing," she said quietly. Blair looked around and bit his lip.

"The afghan from the couch is gone," he told her and she nodded. Jim shrugged.

"That's all," he told her. The intruders had taken no nappies or warm clothes for Clare, nor any shoes or coat for Tommy. Raffey was propped forlornly on the yellow chair - put there by its loving owner and forgotten.

"Ok," she ran a hand over her hair and offered what little comfort she could, "Perhaps they wrapped Tommy in it - we know they took Clare's blankets along. It's a good sign."

"Do you know what the drug is?" Jim's tone was harsh as he glared at the lines of white powder. The Detective would tolerate no drugs in or near his home after their nearly fatal brush with a designer drug called Golden. The Sentinel wasn't too fond of them either.

"It's not coke or heroin," Dunn sighed, "Actually, we're not sure what it is. There were traces of it on the couch and the books Daryl brought along with him. I called the hospital - he's still unconscious and in critical care while the Doctors wait for the blood work. Apparently, he's not presenting the usual symptoms of an OD. They're keeping him close to the resuscitation wing just in case."

"Thank you," Blair nodded and she took the hint, leaving the two men alone, "Jim, let's go into the alley - see if we can pick up the scent again."

Jim nodded and followed Blair out the door quietly. The alley was as dirty and smelly as ever - the building Dumpster was overflowing again and Jim made a mental note to call the health department - he was sick of complaining to the contractors. A little Government investigation would shock them into fulfilling their contract. Jim dragged his wandering thoughts back to the present and clutched his hand in Blair's sleeve, letting his Guide tug him along the alley.

Under Blair's direction they walked to the fire escape and Jim again picked up the scent of Quinn and his helpers.

"Whoever was with him, they split up," Jim gestured, "Quinn went this way though, and the others headed towards the harbour."

"Can you smell Clare and Tommy?" Blair asked quietly and Jim sneezed hard, reeling back into his Guide. Strong hands steadied him and a calm voice urged him to regain control of the dial.

"What happened, Jim?" Blair's voice was gently insistent. Jim grimaced and shook his head, wiping at his nose and growling in frustration. Now was not the time for his senses to let them both down.

"The harbour guys are carrying some kind of scent that's burning my nose off," he sneezed again and fought the dial for control, "I can't pick up the children at all."

"Can you still pick up Quinn?" Blair asked softly and Jim turned, testing the air carefully. The burning sensation faded and he took a few tentative steps to where the other scent was stronger, regaining control with each passing moment. Blair's hand rested in the small of his back, a steady but passive pressure that grounded him.

"Yeah, come on," he led the way down the alley. They would have to be quick - the scent was already beginning to fade. By dawn it would be gone completely.

They walked and ran for several hours - following a network of back ways and little used roads to the warehouse district. Blair was aware that occasionally Brown's cruiser would pass them on the street, or a patrol car would slow down for a look, but other than that, only the hunt existed for the two men as Jim traced the scent and later the tracks of their quarry.

"Here," Jim whispered, speaking for the first time since they left the alley. He eased the gun he'd collected from the safe at home from his holster and Blair stepped back, slotting into his accustomed place. A hand rested on the back of Jim's shoulder lightly, connecting them.

"How many?" he asked quietly in the tone he'd been using since the hunt began, "Isolate the hearts and count them out. Don't go too deep."

"Four adults," Jim straightened after a moment and turned to look at Blair. His eyes were bleak.

"No children."

Blair nodded and took a deep breath.

"Then we go in there and find out where the hell our babies are," his voice was calm and determined. Jim felt himself react, as Blair had no doubt intended - his body achieving the relaxed tension required for moving swiftly and silently, his senses flaring into sharp focus. The grin he gave his Guide was feral - no more than the one he got in return.

It was a moment's work for Blair to pick the lock to the door they wanted to use - and Jim slid inside like a ghost. It was too dark for Blair's sight to adjust quickly, so he looped a finger through the Sentinel's belt and let himself be tugged onward across the floor. Both men were moving soundlessly, gracefully, as they homed in on their prey. Man number one went down soundlessly and was cuffed then stuffed behind a pile of debris.

Man number two managed to get a shout off before Blair's hands gagged him and Jim's fist stunned him. Quinn and man number three bolted while Blair was tying their second captive with his own belt. Jim ran after them, leaving Blair behind as he tried to keep up with the fleeing criminals. He lost them in the over powering stench of the sewer.

Blair was waiting in the warehouse, Brown and Rafe with him. The two detectives had finally caught up with their colleagues and arrested Blair's captives for him.

"I lost him," Jim's voice was heavy with self-recrimination and Blair nodded, his face tightening for a moment. He touched Jim's wrist in acceptance and squared his shoulders.

"We'll find him again," he told Jim and turned to Rafe, "Give us a lift to the station?"

"No problem," Rafe nodded, "There will be a cruiser here in a minute for these two. We'll go then."

"We'll wait at the car," Blair agreed and ushered Jim out. The two men were hanging onto each other tightly when Rafe and Brown got out there and Brown hesitated, then stepped forward and unlocked the doors.

"We'll find them," Brown vowed, as the distraught parents let go of each other and turned to get in.

"Whatever you need, we're here," Rafe added, backing up his partner. There was no reply.

0o0o0

Connor and Rhonda managed to get some food into both men at the station and Joel managed to get them to at least sit at their desks - the closest either one would come to outright rest. The bullpen was buzzing at almost fever pitch as the detectives hit their snitches and contacts for a lead on Quinn and his cronies. The two thugs were downstairs in booking under Brown and Rafe's close supervision. None of the cops wanted to give the lawyers a reason to plead these guys down.

At eight o'clock, Miki Solange and her parents approached Blair's desk and he got up. Gabriel Solange was a petite woman with ebony skin and an iron will. Her husband, Hugh, was a broad man with a Scottish accent and red hair. They were a truly international family, both parents of mixed heritage and speaking several languages between them. Miki was clinging to her mother tightly, her eyes wide and a little scared.

"Blair," Gabriel hugged the pale man and he tweaked Miki's ear as he let go.

"God, we heard what happened," she continued, "And we…"

She faltered at the look in Blair's eyes and he stepped back, looking down and fighting for control. There was an awkward silence for a moment.

"Miki and Tommy ran into a stranger yesterday on the field trip to the zoo," Hugh spoke up. Blair looked at Miki again and got the family seated. Jim stood next to his brother, a hand on his shoulder.

"Can you tell me about it, Miki?" Jim asked tightly and Miki nodded. Her mother rubbed her back as the child looked at Blair and spoke.

"I wanted to look at the lamas and Tommy was helping me find them. Miss Cameron was right around the corner, I promise," Miki looked anxiously at her mother who patted her daughter's back and smiled in reassurance. Now was not the time for discipline.

"Did you find them?" Blair prompted in a gentle voice and Miki nodded, grinning at him. Blair was a favourite with the little girl - he always knew such good stories and interesting facts.

"Yep!" she said proudly, "They were funny. Dr. Blair, can you ride lamas?"

"Sometimes," Blair smiled, "Was the stranger at the lamas too?"

"Yes," Miki nodded, her face clouding over, "He said that he was a cop and that Tommy had to go with him. So then Tommy asked to see his badge, just like you told us to, Detective Jim. Tommy looked at it real close and said it was a fake and if the man didn't go away he'd yell. Then Miss Cameron called us and we ran over to her. She didn't see the man, and we forgot to say anything because the snake man was there and we got to play with them."

"I found the badge in Miki's school bag this morning," Hugh handed it over, "When we heard about it we called at your home. One of the cops there told us what happened."

"How did Tommy know it was a fake?" Gabriel looked at the badge in Blair's hands and he answered without looking up. Jim was shaking in anger beside him as the full import of the tale and the I.D. sank in. Tommy had been a target too - not just someone that got in the way. Dawson Quinn had used his own name and photo in the fake I.D., rubbing it in.

"It doesn't have the hologram in the corner like ours," Blair's voice was hoarse with raw pain and anger. Quinn had shot him once and he wasn't going to forget the way Simon had been treated at the hands of the failed criminal either. He found himself praying desperately for his son and niece.

Rafe stepped in then, getting the Solanges to make a statement and sign the paperwork. Blair walked them out of the building to their car, thanking them for coming in so quickly. Hugh put a hand on Blair's arm before he got in the car.

"Blair…if there's anything we can do…this is every parent's worst nightmare…anything you need, name it."

"Thanks Hugh. We'll stay in touch. And the patrol cars will go past a few extra times, ok? Miki shouldn't be a target but we'll take no chances. Take good care of her," Blair's smile was strained and Hugh nodded before squeezing the arm he held and getting in.

Blair watched them until they were out of sight and sighed, turning to trudge back into the station. Felicity Dunn got into the elevator at the fourth floor and Blair greeted her wearily.

"Dr. Sandburg, is there anything you need?" she asked gently and Blair shook his head. He gestured to the files she held in the crook of her arm. She couldn't supply what he needed - his son in his arms, safe and sound.

"You have something for us?"

"Maybe," Dunn sighed as the doors opened. She followed Blair into Major Crimes and nodded to Jim before waving the others over.

"Ok," she sighed, "Here's what we've got. There were two different entry points - the balcony and the front door. The people who came in through the balcony blew some kind of drug at Daryl Banks and Tommy Sandburg. There was a concentration on Daryl, suggesting he was the target. After the dust settled the second party came in and moved the papers in front of Daryl, making lines of the unused powder. Whatever the drug was it's not recreational. If I didn't know better I'd say it was a strong sedative, but you don't administer sedatives like that. The second party followed the first party around, obscuring their tracks and both parties exited the dwelling through the fire escape."

The dispassionate sentences were balm to the gathered cops - letting them focus on the information for a moment, not the emotions of the situation.

"So, Quinn had someone drug Daryl and then they all left with the kids?" Blair frowned and Dunn shook her head. She didn't want to say this, but if they were to find the children all possibilities had to be at least acknowledged.

"I don't think so," she replied, "There's nothing to indicate that they were working together. In fact, I think Quinn might have come in too late to take the children. Sure, he set the scene up with Daryl - we found some prints that weren't his on the papers he was studying, maybe one of the guys in custody will be a match - but it's possible that the children were already gone."

"Dammit!" Blair slammed his hands onto his desk, venting his fear. He swept everything from the surface, kicking out at the chair as well. Jim grabbed him and pulled him away, holding on tight until the struggles stopped and Blair was hanging loosely in his arms. Their friends and colleagues were ignoring them, giving the illusion of privacy at least.

"Hang on buddy," Jim croaked, "Don't give up on me now."

Blair calmed his breathing with effort and got his feet under him. Jim let go and Blair apologized with a look. They needed to be in control if they were to get their kids back.

"Ok, that's it. I want you two to get out of here," Joel spoke up, "You're gonna be no good to anyone if you don't get some real rest. Go to a hotel if you can't go home, but I want you both to get some sleep. Come back this afternoon and we'll see where we are. Rafe and Brown - you too. Connor and I at least slept last night and the whole damn force is trawling for Quinn at the moment. We'll meet here at four and review what we have and what we need."

"Come on, Chief," Jim pulled at Blair, "He's got a point."

Rafe and Brown were already collecting their gear and walking to the door, knowing that the other two wouldn't move if they refused. Blair resisted for a moment and then nodded silently, letting Jim usher him out and down to the ground floor. Neither man had their car at the station, but they weren't planning to go far. There was a hotel three blocks from the station that Blair had dragged Jim to once or twice when the Sentinel needed some down time and couldn't last the trip to the loft.

They booked a room, collected the key and trudged up to the second floor. The furnishings and decor were as bland as only a hotel could be, but neither man seemed to notice as they stripped down to their underwear and crawled together into the double bed.

Jim pulled Blair close, curling up around his Guide and hanging on tightly. Both men shook with the force of their repressed emotion as they tried to come to terms with what was happening.

"I'm so scared, Jim," Blair's voice cracked a little, "What are we going to do?"

Jim broke, burying his face in the back of Blair's neck and sobbing heart brokenly for his daughter. Blair wriggled around to face Jim and wrapped his arms and legs around the other man, sobbing too as the nightmare overwhelmed them both.

They woke hours later, still entwined. Blair stroked Jim's back lightly, getting comfort by giving it.

"We're gonna get them back, Chief. That's what we're gonna do," Jim answered the question finally and Blair nodded. It was all they could do. The alternative was too awful to contemplate.

0o0o0

Simon looked up as the door opened and blinked in surprise. Blair stood in the doorway, looking like death warmed over and paler than the sheets Daryl was lying on. Joan stirred but didn't wake as noises from the corridor drifted into the quiet room. They had moved Daryl to a private room in order to afford him more protection should Quinn decide to come back. They still didn't know what the drug Daryl had been exposed to was, or if he'd wake soon.

"Any word?" Simon's heart stuttered to a stop for an awful moment, thinking that Blair had come to tell him Tommy and Clare were dead. Blair shook his head silently and looked at Daryl.

"We thought you'd want to know," Blair's voice was rough, "Quinn might not be responsible. We think he played with the evidence to get Daryl into trouble. The kids were gone before he got to them."

"God, Blair, I'm so sorry," Simon stumbled over to his friend and pulled him in close for a hug. Blair leaned into him for a moment and then pulled away to walk to Daryl's bedside. He lifted the teen's hand and stroked it lightly.

"We've got no idea who they were," the voice continued in an emotionless tone, "And they were headed for the harbour. By the time we figured it out five ships had left on the morning tide and we can't get to them. Quinn is still out there somewhere and Miki Solange reported that she was with Tommy when Quinn tried to pass himself off as a cop and take Tommy away from the field trip yesterday. Tommy told him the badge was a fake and took it…"

"Thank God you and Jim drilled him on the difference," Simon broke the heavy silence and Blair flinched, then nodded.

"He's at the station now, trying to make some sense of it all," Blair kept up the gentle stroking; his eyes fixed on Daryl's face. Their voices had woken Joan - she sat and stared at the wreck of a man stroking her son's hand and wrist.

"We don't blame Daryl, Simon. It looked pretty bad when we first saw it all, and I'm sorry about what happened, but Jim and I weren't exactly firing on all cylinders," the apology was sincere even though Blair didn't look away from the teen on the bed. Joan got up and reached out to free Daryl's hand from Blair's.

The dazed man jolted back and focussed on her for the first time. Simon stepped in to steady him, then reached around and gave Daryl's hand back to his friend, glaring at his ex as he did so. Blair started stroking again, alternating with little pinches to the nerves in the wrist.

"What are you doing?" Joan protested and Blair looked up absently. Simon recognized the expression on the younger man's face and held his breath.

"Waking him up," the Shaman replied reasonably and pinched one last time. Daryl took a deep breath and opened his eyes slowly.

"Mom? Dad?"

Minutes later Joan looked at the closed door and then at her husband in disbelief.

"What went on in there? How did he do that?" she demanded in a quiet voice, "Did you know he was going to do that? Dammit Simon, talk to me!"

"I was hoping he could wake Daryl up," Simon started, picking his words carefully. He didn't want to lie to Daryl's mother, but he sure couldn't tell the truth. He didn't know if it was a Sentinel thing or a Sandburg thing, but when Blair got that expression you stood back and let him work. Usually Simon only saw it when Blair was working on Jim, but the consultant was not exclusive in his efforts to help others.

"Dr. Sandburg doesn't practice Western Medicine," Simon looked down the corridor to where Blair was slumped in a chair, clutching a cup of coffee from the vending machine. The door to Daryl's room opened and the doctor and nurses came out.

"How is he?" Simon straightened, taking Joan's hand supportively. Her grip was tight. The doctor smiled at them both.

"He's just fine: fully aware and responsive. Motor control is normal, all reflexes normal. He's missing a little bit of memory and understandably worried about what happened to put him in here, but otherwise I have no concerns. We'll keep him a few more hours for observation and then release him tomorrow morning. I'll arrange a normal room for him now - we should be ready to move him in a little while."

The doctor took his leave and Joan hesitated a minute before running quickly down the hall to hug Blair. She jogged just as quickly back to Daryl's room and went inside; Simon looked at his friend and followed his ex wife.

Blair stood up and walked down the hall to a payphone. He called the news in and watched as orderlies collected Daryl in a wheelchair and walked him down to the teenager's ward. He waited outside the room until the orderlies left and then knocked lightly on the door.

Daryl was startled to see Blair and immediately assumed the worst. Simon couldn't blame him - his friend was a shocking sight at the moment. This situation was eating Blair alive from the inside out and it showed in his face.

"Oh God! What's happened?" the teenager gasped and Blair moved quickly to reassure his friend's son.

"It's ok," Blair took Daryl's hand in his own, "It'll all be ok."

"Son, when we got home we found you unconscious and the front door wide open," Simon sat on the end of the bed, and Joan moved to take his other hand.

"The kids were gone, honey," Joan said softly, "You've been asleep for almost a whole day."

"Blair, I'm so sorry! I don't know what happened!" Daryl turned his head to Blair and the Shaman took charge, hopping up on the bed and patting and stroking Daryl's chest.

"Stop it, Daryl. No one blames you. It's not your fault, now calm down. Take it easy, my friend, I need you calm and focussed."

Simon watched Blair soothe Daryl into a semblance of calm and patted his son on the foot absently.

"What's the last thing you remember, Daryl?" Simon asked when the Shaman fell silent. Daryl bit his lip and frowned. His mother was patting his hand, his father his foot and Blair his chest. The teenager was beginning to feel like a puppy.

"Um…I was in Blair's loft. I was waiting for Tommy to come out with his drawing stuff. I was planning to study while Tommy drew next door," Daryl looked up, "I'm sorry, that's all."

"Don't be sorry," Joan soothed, "You're doing your best, honey."

"But that won't help us find Tommy and Clare. Detective Ellison must hate me!"

"No," Simon shook his head, "He understands, Daryl. It wasn't your fault."

The door opened and Rafe and Brown entered. They smiled at Daryl, saying hello and grinning at their boss, relieved for him that his son was ok. Joan bristled immediately.

"What are you two doing here?" she snapped. She had never liked her husband's colleagues, and rarely bothered to hide it. She blamed Simon's job for the eventual break up of their marriage and his colleagues by default. The men and women of Major Crimes were well aware of this attitude and tried not to give her any ammunition against their boss. Blair put his hands in his lap but didn't get off the bed.

"We need Daryl's statement," Rafe replied in an even tone, "How about it Daryl? You up for a chat?"

"Yeah," Daryl nodded. Rafe fished out his notebook with a grin. The teen had spunk - just like his dad.

"No," Joan over rode. Brown grimaced but said nothing. Simon sighed and opened his mouth to intervene when Daryl beat him to it.

"If it helps get Clare and Tommy back I'll do it, Mom, so just let me!" the stress in his voice was enough to convince Joan to back off a little, at least for now. She sat down in the chair beside the bed and Daryl clutched her hand tightly as he repeated what he'd told Blair a few minutes ago.

"Why don't I remember more?" Daryl fretted. Blair reached out and shook his shoulder.

"It's there, Daryl. You just can't access it. Maybe you'll remember more later," Blair counselled and Daryl grimaced.

"But you need to know now. Can't you help me? I've seen you talk Detective Ellison into remembering stuff!" he demanded. Blair looked over at Joan and then at Simon. Putting the Sentinel into a trance to aid recall was one thing - to do it to a teenager in front of his parents was another. Daryl was right though; they needed the information now.

"If your parents don't object then we can give it a try," Blair agreed, and Joan frowned. Doctor or not, this strange curly haired man set all her maternal instincts tingling.

"Try what? You're not going to hypnotize him!" she blurted and Blair laughed. It was a travesty of his normal laugh and Simon shivered a little. Rafe and Brown shifted uneasily. Their friends were hanging by a thread that no one wanted to see snap.

"It's a guided recall technique. No hypnotism required. I'll get Daryl to relax and then help him nudge his memories to the front where he can access them. But I won't do it without your permission," Blair assured her. Simon wished he could just will his ex into agreeing - even in his current condition Blair would never hurt their son.

"Please Mom!" Daryl urged and Joan nodded reluctantly.

"Simon?" Blair asked, twisting to look at his boss. Simon nodded immediately.

"Do it," he ordered and Blair asked Rafe to turn the lights off. Joan looked like she was going to protest again, but subsided at the pleading look from Daryl.

Blair's voice filled the room as he held Daryl's hands and talked him into the state of relaxation he needed. Under the guidance of that voice Daryl remembered settling with Tommy at the coffee table and some of the studying he did. He remembered hearing a noise and looking up, but that was all. Blair tried for several minutes to isolate the sound and what Daryl was sensing - the teenager was no Sentinel but had a sense memory none-the-less: everyone did to some degree. They established that it was the sound of the glass doors to the balcony opening that made Daryl look up in time to get a face full of powder. He never saw his assailant.

Blair released Daryl from the trance and caught a ride with Rafe and Brown back to the station.

0o0o0

"I don't get it. If Quinn didn't take the kids why are you still chasing him?" Simon ushered Jim into his office and started the coffee. Jim slumped into the chair opposite Simon's desk and sighed. His eyes were burning with fatigue and every muscle in his body was screaming in protest. In the two days since his child and his nephew had been taken Jim had managed to get only three hours sleep - and that was on top of a full week of work beforehand and almost non-stop activity since. Neither man could face going back to the loft at the moment and he couldn't convince his Guide to go back to the hotel.

The fact that Blair would have been going alone may have had something to do with Jim's failure.

Blair had come back from the hospital with the information from Daryl and he and Blair had returned to the alley to follow the now very faint burning scent to the harbour. They'd lost the trace near the cannery. It was inconclusive if the first party had jumped on a ship or kept going and holed up somewhere in the city. Major Crimes continued to hit the snitches and follow up on the whispers.

Simon had come in an hour after Blair, at Daryl's request. The teen wanted as many people looking for the children as possible. Simon had been glad to go, despite the attitude Joan was giving him about leaving his sick son in hospital. The captain needed to help with this one - they all did.

"Right now he's all we've got," Jim's voice was rough and dull, making Simon's throat ache in sympathy.

"Simon, about what I said…"

"It's ok," Simon held up a hand, "Jim, I know what it looked like. If I hadn't been so worried and scared I'd have been furious with him. We said things we didn't mean. We both screwed up. I'll forgive you if you'll forgive me."

Jim nodded and Simon turned as the coffee machine burped one last time. He was using that vanilla blend that Jim liked so much - figuring his detective needed the comfort as much as Simon needed to give it. He poured two cups and turned.

It took him two seconds to realize what had happened and he put the cups down swiftly, going to the door and calling to Rhonda to find Sandburg and get him here right now.

Simon closed the blinds and then stood next to his detective, bending to be at Jim's level. He put a hand on the still man's shoulder and rubbed in soothing circles, murmuring reassurances. After a few minutes Blair stormed in, the door banging shut behind him as he moved to kneel in front of Jim. Anxious eyes met Simon's as the Captain took his hand away and backed off a little.

"How long?" Blair asked, rubbing his palms in circles on Jim's knees. The kneeling man was tilting a little to the left in his own fatigue. Simon wondered how effective Blair could be, burdened by fatigue as he was.

"A few minutes," Simon replied and Blair sighed, leaning in and resting his head on the hand that clutched the arm of the chair.

"It's the coffee," Blair explained, "The smell is too strong. Did you put sugar in his?"

"He doesn't take sugar," Simon said, guilt marring his face. He hadn't realized he was overloading Jim's senses.

"It's ok, Simon," Blair looked up at the other man with a strained smile, "It was only a matter of time before he fell. I was kind of expecting this. Can you load the sugar into his coffee and stir it in? He'll need the stimulant. I'll take him back to the hotel and get him to sleep once I've brought him out of this."

"Shouldn't you be talking to him?" Simon frowned in confusion and Blair shook his head, letting the rhythm of his hands warm the fabric that covered Jim's knees.

"I don't want him to wake up yet," Blair explained, "Sometimes letting him zone for a little while is better. It's a way to recharge his batteries enough to get him to safety. Especially since he zoned on something so safe. We've been experimenting with it at home."

Simon put the loaded coffee next to Blair and then stood back, watching as Blair finally leaned forward and called Jim out of the zone, reassuring and coaxing the Sentinel back to awareness. Once Jim was able to grunt in response Blair fed him the coffee, then woke him the rest of the way and levered the stunned man to his feet.

He told Simon where they'd be and pushed Jim out of the office, supporting as much weight as he could and weaving drunkenly to the elevator. Joel and Brown took Jim from his grasp while Simon and Rafe sandwiched the consultant between them.

Blair was vaguely aware of Simon rifling his pockets for the key to the hotel and being loaded into Simon's car. Joel rode up front to help get them into the hotel and the two Captains watched as the partners curled up together, took a single united breath and passed peacefully into sleep.

"They'll need clean clothes," Simon frowned, "Come on, we'll go past the loft and pick up some gear for them. With a bit of luck they'll get some decent rest and come back ready to crack this mess wide open."

Joel waited until they were in Blair's part of the loft to voice his doubts.

"There's been no ransom and absolutely nothing from Quinn, Simon. Are we sure they're still alive?"

"I am," Simon vowed, "Anything else is just not acceptable, Joel."

"Simon…"

Joel was interrupted by the sound of a key opening the front door in Jim's half. Both men put down the gym bags they held and snuck quietly to the corridor.

"Ok," said a familiar voice, "Let us see what we shall see."

"Why am I here again?" a second voice complained. Felicity Dunn stepped into Simon's line of sight, grinning back at the lab tech that'd spoken. She was dressed in jeans and shirt, as always. The rumours at the station said she didn't own any other clothes.

"So you can testify I didn't rip off the stereo while I was here," she told him and he rolled his eyes. Dunn went to the balcony doors and stood facing the room.

"Y'know our last Chief, Ms Welles, wasn't too popular when she tried to play detective," the tech cautioned and Dunn sighed.

"For the last time, Mikey - I'm not playing detective. This escapee disturbed the evidence patterns. I want to see if I can piece them back together. I'm not in anyone's way and it certainly will help if we get a clear picture of who did what. I just want to walk the scene one more time," she scolded and flipped open her file, "Anything we find goes straight to Major Crimes."

"Good to hear," Simon stepped in and Mikey jumped in surprise. Dunn looked up quickly, then relaxed. She offered him a grave nod, flipping through her file slowly for the information she wanted. There was nothing that read as guilty in her body language and Simon appreciated that - she was here to do her job, not someone else's.

"I didn't know you were here, Captain Banks," she commented and turned the file on its side, frowning at the contents.

"Picking up some gear for my men. They…"

"Don't want to come back," Dunn nodded, "I can sympathize. I felt the same way when my place was invaded…only, the stuff they took was replaceable."

Simon nodded. He got the feeling she really did understand. For the first time since this whole nightmare began Simon felt a pang of hope. The PD would track the children down and reunite them with their fathers. They would.

0o0o0

When Jim and Blair returned to the bullpen there was an oddly triumphant mood to their colleagues. The partners headed straight for Simon's office and he waved them to chairs opposite his desk with a grin.

"We've got Quinn," Simon said without preamble, "Officer Kelley was searching for his kid's cat and spotted him from the car. Kelley called for backup and we took him with no problems. Rafe and Brown are in there now, with the lawyer."

"Has he said anything about Tommy and Clare?" Blair's voice was electric and Simon shook his head, frustration dogging every move.

"He says the kids were gone when he got there. He searched the place for them, but couldn't find them. From what we've got from the goons he hired he's telling the truth. I'm sorry, guys. We're at a stand still," Simon scrubbed his face with his hand and tried not to watch the naked pain on his friend's faces.

"Let me talk to him," Jim growled, his body tense as a spring. Blair's hand latched onto his arms in a grim grip and Jim tried to shake it off.

"Calm down," Blair ordered, "You want this guy to get off? To pose a greater threat than he already is? You go in there and you'll rip his arms off or something. The kids need us, Jim. Stop it!"

"He knows something!" Jim grunted, tugging at his arm. He could have freed it with greater effort, but that might entail actually hurting Blair - an unacceptable outcome. The younger man merely tightened his grip and increased the intensity of his voice. This was familiar territory. Calling a ballistic Sentinel back to rational thought was old hat for him now.

"Let Rafe and Brown handle it," Blair persisted, "He's going back to jail anyway - he might want to bargain his time down by offering his information. He won't even try it if he sees you or me! Don't give him a reason to lie to us!"

Jim froze and then slumped in his chair.

"You win, Chief," he whispered dryly and his friend got up to lean against him - both of them needing the contact at the moment. Simon blew out a gusty breath and came to lean on the desk near them, offering support wordlessly. He knew that if Daryl had been taken like this he'd be a basket case - was in fact amazed at how well the men in front of him were coping. He had a feeling that with the arrest of Quinn their hope was about to fade for good - the criminal was their last link to whoever had the children.

"Extend your hearing, Jim," Blair suggested, "Find Brown's voice then listen to the people he's with. What are they saying?"

"Brown is telling Quinn he's going back anyway so he might as well tell us where the kids are. The lawyer is objecting to it. I can't hear Quinn at all," Jim looked up at the dark blue eyes above him and sighed deeply. Blair's hand traced a circle between his shoulder blades and Jim butted his head against his friend's hip. He wanted to cry with frustration, but instead he obeyed his Guide and reported back what he was hearing faithfully.

"Rafe is telling them about the fingerprints. The lawyer is still telling Quinn not to say anything," Jim continued in a leaden voice and his Guide shook his head angrily. Rhonda knocked on Simon's door and entered when he called. She was carrying a cloth bundle in her arms and Blair's head came up sharply. Jim twisted in his seat to stare at it as the scents grabbed his attention.

"This was delivered at the front desk for Detective Ellison and Blair," Rhonda said hesitantly, unnerved at the intensity of the expressions on the two men.

"Who delivered it? Do we still have them?" Jim's voice cracked at her and she blinked at him in shock. Jim's temper was legendary, but Rhonda felt that something else was happening here.

"Yes, he's still there," she nodded and Blair took the bundle from her, moving to place it on the conference table in Simon's office.

"What is it?" Simon asked as Jim leapt up and ran past Rhonda full pelt - re-energized. Blair was tugging gently at the ties that held the bundle together.

"It's a message bundle from Peru," Blair's voice was crisp. The young man's hands shook with barely repressed excitement as he picked at the layers. Leaves carvings and one or two animal parts tumbled out.

"What the hell?" Simon's voice was puzzled as he peered at the objects. Blair picked over everything, turning the artefacts this way and that, smelling the plants and rubbing his fingers in the scraps of material. Simon and Rhonda watched in bemusement as Blair methodically catalogued everything in front of him. Jim jogged back into the room. Both men were moving with an energy and purpose that had been missing since the abduction.

"He's a patsy - says some Indian with war paint on asked him to hand it in," Jim came to stand next to Blair, "Who sent it?"

"The Chopec Shaman," Blair replied and glanced at Rhonda, wondering how much he could say. Rhonda caught the look and grinned, rolling her eyes. These two were legendary when it came to weird occurrences and last minute saves. She prayed that this was what she was seeing now.

"I'll leave you to it," her voice was amused, "It's not like I haven't figured out the Sandburg Zone is a weird one. My lips are sealed ok?"

"You're worth more money Rhonda," Jim's voice was sincere, "Thanks."

When the door closed Simon frowned at his two friends.

"This is probably going to be something I don't want to know, right?" he grumbled, but was relieved to see some animation in the two men after three days of fear and waiting.

"Probably," Blair agreed, "The Chopec took the kids. There's some kind of trial involved - but I'm not sure who has to face it. It could be the Shaman, or the children or Jim and I."

"They're babies! How in God's name can they survive a trial?" Jim exploded.

Simon took his cue from Blair and ignored the outburst - focussing on the bundle.

"I think the Shaman is acting without the permission of the tribe, Simon. If they needed us, and the tribe agreed, they'd send the bundle, but leave the children. They have to know that we'd come if they were in trouble - Jim is still a part of them, even though he is the Sentinel of the Great City," Blair continued.

"How do you know all this?" Simon asked and Blair held various items up, explaining what they meant as he did.

"Broken arrow - peril and a quest or trial. Claw from a jaguar - Jim's spirit animal. Tooth from a wolf - my spirit animal. This is from a Lynx - Tommy's animal. The seed represents Clare - she hasn't travelled to the spirit plane yet. This is a claw of a mynah bird - it belongs to the Shaman. We're all represented here. The Shaman's claw was tied to the arrow - so it's his quest we're summoned to. The plants represent various parts of the land - an address of sorts if you like. We're to meet this Shaman there and either fulfil his Quest or fight him for it. Either way, he has the children and we have to go."

There was a stunned silence from Simon as Blair put the bundle back together and Jim leaned over the table, confirming everything his Shaman had said. The scents were familiar to the Sentinel, bringing with them memories of his former Shaman and village.

"How the hell do you know all that?" Simon asked in disbelief. Jim's head came up and his glare was not friendly to say the least. No one questioned his Guide and Shaman's ability to do the job.

"He's my Shaman, Simon. What do you think he's been doing all this time? He knows the job and he's right," Jim growled and Blair laid a hand on his arm soothingly, "He knew how to wake Daryl and he knows how to control the shit that happens with the senses. Hell, he can even find new ways for me to use them…"

"Enough," Blair's voice was final, "We need to get going. Simon we'll be gone for a while - I can't say how long."

Simon looked over at his desk. Reports, budgets and pending cases buried the surface of it. He'd let everything slide to be with Daryl and then to help Jim and Blair.

"Give me an hour and I'll come with you," he told them and they exchanged long looks. Simon had the feeling that the two men were holding an entire conversation without words. In the end Jim shook his head and turned to face his boss.

"Thanks Simon, but we need to go alone," Jim smiled, the first genuine one since they'd left their children with Daryl, "It's a Sentinel and Guide thing."

Simon nodded, not offended at all by this. This was something that he couldn't help with - the last thing they needed was a sceptic dogging their tracks.

"Ok," he conceded, "Call if you can. We'll be praying."

0o0o0

William Ellison had grounded the corporate jet the moment he heard about the kidnapping - his sons used it to fly to Peru. Thanks to the Ellison Corporation's connections they had little trouble with Immigration and were heading for the Chopec lands within hours of landing.

The jungle greeted Jim like an old friend - his senses expanding and reaching a higher level than was safe in the city. Blair moved like a ghost in his footsteps as they hiked the trails, both men carrying the packs that they'd made up from home. It had been the first time they'd returned to the loft since it was invaded. The space felt queerly empty and Blair wondered if it knew its children were missing.

"So what's the address we're heading for?" Jim asked in Quecha. Both men had started speaking it the moment they left civilization behind, and would continue to speak it for the duration of their stay in the jungle. Blair glanced up at his friend and grinned.

"We'll need your senses to find it, Enqueri. You'll have to match the combined scent from the message to a part of the jungle," he replied, stepping nimbly over the rough terrain. Enqueri rolled his eyes and looked back at the Shaman.

"For crying out loud, Shaman, the jungle's a big place," Enqueri grumbled and the Shaman sighed. His Sentinel was a stubborn man - a trait the Shaman hoped was not passed on to the daughter. Gods help them all if they had to put up with that and the terrible twos!

"Look, wherever this place is, it's near or in the Chopec territory. Mynah birds are territorial and don't stray far from home…"

"Strayed far enough to steal our children," there was murder in that reply, but it was ignored as the Shaman kept talking like Enqueri hadn't even spoken. Better to focus on the future than the past right now - there would be time for recriminations and anger later.

"…Not to mention the fact that he couldn't afford to be absent for too long, given the raid he planned on the Great City would be noticed. He couldn't afford the censure of the village."

"What I don't understand is how any student of Incacha could go so wrong. 'Cacha was a great teacher and Shaman from other villages often came to him for advice," there was a note of pain in the Sentinel's tone now and the Shaman reached out a hand, connecting them together.

"Chances are this Shaman is from another village - the Chopec may be borrowing him until one of their own can assume that mantle. This guy was probably supposed to teach a Chopec youth the way of the Shaman," he soothed, "We won't know until we get there."

Enqueri nodded and they hiked on in silence for a while.

Their entry into Chopec territory on the third day was marked by a definite tingle along Enqueri's skin, which manifested itself as a twitch for the Shaman to see and acknowledge. They rested just inside the Chopec lands and then hiked on again.

"It's very dry here," Enqueri commented as they hiked the fourth day. The Shaman nodded, looking at the dusty plants and listening to the dry sounds of the jungle.

"I think they're in a drought," he agreed and stopped when Enqueri did. From the tension in Enqueri's shoulders and level of focus he knew there was weapons pointed at them both.

"Almata?" Enqueri called, "How is your family, old friend?"

"Not well, Enqueri, these are hard times. I am glad to see you again," Almata was a man Jim's age, dressed in the traditional loincloth, native sandals and paint of a Chopec warrior. His bow was loaded, but now pointed at the ground instead of the two new comers.

"Welcome home, Sentinel," Almata continued, "Welcome home, Shaman."

"Thank you, Warrior. I am honoured to be here," the Shaman said softly and Almata nodded. He walked beside Enqueri the rest of the way, the Shaman a little way behind. As the warrior and Sentinel talked, the Shaman wondered what name he would be given when they reached the village. The Chief of the Chopec would either name him - making him a part of the village, with responsibilities to match - or continue to call him Shaman. That would mean Enqueri and their children were his sole duty for the duration of their stay. He couldn't decide which outcome was the most desirable.

He walked in silence until they reached the village. A cry went up and people came hurrying out to greet their former Sentinel. The Shaman was surprised to be included in the welcome, though he was quick to respond. The adults looked strained, beneath the smiles on their faces was worry and fear.

"Welcome home Enqueri, Andarko. We are in sore need of your help," the tribe's Chieftain Pasha nodded to them and turned to lead the way to his home, "I have much to tell you both."

"You know our children were taken?" Andarko asked in a quiet voice and Pasha nodded, glancing at him sideways. Enqueri's jaw clenched in anger and his Guide soothed him with a light touch. Andarko's new village didn't need their former Sentinel venting all over them.

"We were unable to prevent it," Pasha sighed, "It has been a hard year for the tribe. Please, sit."

The hut was larger than normal - to cater for the larger number of inhabitants it must hold from time to time. Pasha's wife, Kabuki, served the men and then slipped away to the back, sitting down to resume whatever tasks their arrival had interrupted.

"What news have you?" Enqueri's voice was hard and cold and Pasha sighed, putting his drink aside and meeting the ice blue eyes.

"Our Shaman is not of this village. He was training one of our boys - Tayca, the nephew of Incacha. The boy is here still - he had no part in the Shaman's evil: of that we are certain. The Chopec have long been the guardians of the Wheel of Muan. It is this, the Shaman seeks," Pasha began and the Sentinel growled impatiently. Immediately the Guide's hand shot out to grip and shake his shoulder.

"Jim!" Blair's voice was sharp, "Stop that! I've heard of this artefact. Muan was a powerful Shaman who carved the Wheel to help him with his spells here on earth. When he died his peers hid the wheel to prevent it from being misused. It's reputed to be so powerful it can control the weather and even speed or slow the passage of time!"

"What's that got to do with the kids?" Jim snapped, "I just want my daughter back!"

"Only someone who is free of malice can use the Wheel - and they took children. If Tommy is a Guide like you think then this Shaman would be planning to use Tommy to make the Wheel work and Clare as leverage. Let Pasha tell us the rest," Blair's eyes were shadowed and Jim nodded, settling back down and pressing into his friend's side. The contact would help keep him calm and focussed. Pasha had watched the exchange in English impassively, his eyes following the speakers.

Sensing that their argument had ended - and that Andarko had won - he took a breath to command their attention and began to speak again.

"The Shaman has taken the children to the Wheel - he will use your son, Andarko, to retrieve it from its resting place. Only an innocent could retrieve it. The Wheel is all-powerful, yet it has two flaws. The first is that the Shaman using it must have good intentions…"

"My people in the Great City have a saying - the road to hell is paved with good intentions," Andarko sighed and Pasha nodded solemnly, understanding the sentiment if not the imagery.

"The second flaw is that the Shaman that wields the power of the Wheel must bond to it in a ceremony. There must be a second Shaman present at the bonding. It is possible that the Shaman will bond the Wheel to you Andarko, and use the lives of your son and that of your Sentinel's daughter to control you," Pasha looked from one man to the other solemnly. Andarko tapped Enqueri's knee and nodded.

"Tommy is too young to control the Wheel, though he was able to retrieve it. I will be able to trade myself for the children," Andarko mused. The Sentinel kept quiet by main force of will, "Pasha, do you know where this Shaman is?"

"No," Pasha sighed, "We are unable to find him."

"Then we must," Andarko got up, "He sent us the scents of his trail. We merely have to find it. Come Enqueri - we will begin."

"I will accompany you," Pasha stood, "As will our warriors."

The men left the hut, to find the warriors of the village waiting silently.

Enqueri stood silently in the centre of the village and let his Guide direct his senses. As the warm voice wrapped around him, Enqueri felt his focus return with a clarity he'd never achieved in Cascade.

"Remember the scent of the message bundle as Rhonda brought it to us. That is the scent we need to find now. It is unique - there will be no other like it. Focus on the scents around you. Hear my voice and feel my hand. Let yourself stretch out above the forest, scenting your path…"

"Got it."

"Remember its place and trace your way back to me. Come back to me now, my Sentinel. Return to the safety of the village."

"That way!"

They moved out.

0o0o0

The Shaman had set up camp in the middle of a clearing. Pasha halted immediately, correctly suspecting a trap. In the centre of the clearing a domed grass lodge rested, smoke billowing gently from the hole in the roof. Around the edge of the clearing it was easy to see where the three warriors that supported the Shaman had slept.

Andarko pointed to the talisman carved on a nearby tree and Enqueri signalled for the warriors to spread out but not enter the clearing. As a modern man from America, Enqueri knew all too well that here and now 'magic' was alive and potent. The warriors believed and that was enough to give the Shaman power over them. The breeze shifted, sending tendrils of smoke to Sentinel and Guide.

"It's a powerful hypnotic, dial it down, Enqueri, way down," the Guide ordered and then watched to see he was obeyed. When he was sure his partner was safe Andarko slipped quietly into the clearing and walked without pause into the lodge. Enqueri found Pasha's knife at his throat. That was the first indication that he'd moved to follow his Guide.

"You cannot follow, Enqueri," Pasha murmured in a low voice, "This is for the Shamen now. Only one who walks the spirit world can breach this circle."

"I walk it," Enqueri growled, but Pasha wouldn't move; wouldn't even lower the knife that held the larger man at bay. His eyes were like two black diamonds as they met and held the icy gaze of the Sentinel. Nearby, a jaguar growled in warning, but the Chief didn't back down.

"Who will care for the children?" Pasha reproved, "Who better than a Sentinel?"

"There is no Sentinel without the Guide!" Enqueri struck out to remove the knife from his throat and then froze as Andarko emerged again with a bundle cradled lovingly in his arms. The scents of the bundle reached out to fit into the search pattern the Sentinel hadn't even known his senses were making. Enqueri's arms rose urgently and Andarko slipped the healthy sleeping baby into them.

The world went away from Enqueri as his anxious senses checked and rechecked his daughter's health. A nearby sound broke the spell and he looked up in time to see his soul mate emerge, a larger bundle cradled close. Pasha accepted charge of this one and Andarko sighed, kissed his son goodbye and turned to look at Enqueri. He had given his word to the Shaman that he would return to the lodge.

A Shaman couldn't foreswear himself and remain a Shaman - though Blair skirted that particular trait with his obfuscations. The tribe would disown them both and Enqueri wouldn't survive that shame. The same went for Andarko - the knowledge of his dishonour would eat him alive.

"Take care of them," Andarko's voice was loving and firm, "Take care of yourself. Tell them I love them…"

"Every day," Enqueri vowed and Andarko smiled. All thoughts of defying his Guide vanished as he read the emotions and intentions flowing through his eyes. Pasha was right, he had to trust Andarko to survive, yet be prepared for the worst.

Their children needed them now. Andarko couldn't be foresworn and the tribe must be protected. He felt his memory capture and preserve this moment with crystal clarity as the young Shaman completed his sentence.

"And remember I love you," he leaned over to brush their temples together and then walked without pause into the lodge. Enqueri was left to walk back to the village with his daughter in his arms and his nephew close by.

With every step his senses shrank a little more, closing down slowly, until all he had was the norm. Clare stirred a little and Enqueri stopped, burying his face in her blankets and trying to stop the tears. He was aware the warriors and Pasha were standing patiently beside him and reached desperately for control.

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

They walked on in silence. Three Shamen met the party in the village. Enqueri vaguely remembered these three men coming to see him after Incacha rescued him from the crash site. He remembered their voices chanting over him as he screamed in pain and anger. Eventually he'd found peace and tracked the three visitors as they left the village with Incacha sitting nearby.

"Enqueri, why do you grieve for Andarko?" the Eldest of the three chided. He was scarred all over, fine scars crisscrossing his arms and legs, thicker scars patterning his torso. His hair was painted in red stripes and his face echoed the decoration. An elaborate necklace of animal claws hung from his neck.

"He is gone," the former Sentinel made no effort to disguise his bitterness, and the Eldest sighed.

"Your child needs you now. You will speak of this later," he dismissed Enqueri, who returned to Pasha's hut. Kabuki had prepared a place for the children to sleep and now supplied water and a cloth for Enqueri. He unwrapped his daughter tenderly and cleaned the grimy little body, relieved to see that she bore no marks from their separation. Someone had cared for her enough to keep her nappy changed - though the cloth currently being used was a little coarse. When her bath was done Enqueri turned to Tommy, lovingly undressing the child and cleaning him as well. He was rewarded with a little sigh of happiness as the boy curled up again and drifted deeper into sleep. Outside, the wind picked up a little as the sky darkened.

Pasha presented Enqueri with a loincloth and he changed obediently. He would not return to the Great City alone - his Guide's son would remain near his father. The Chopec could always use another man to work - and that was what they'd get.

At a guess the Shaman had drugged both children to keep them docile. With a little luck neither child would remember the actual abduction. Enqueri hoped he'd be able to come up with a decent covering story for Tommy. Kabuki took away the dirty water and clothes as Enqueri settled beside the children to watch over them. A loud peal of thunder woke Clare with a startled cry and Enqueri picked her up tenderly. She was wailing for her 'mum-mum' the name she'd given to Enqueri before she could say 'daddy'. He only heard it rarely now - when she was very tired or upset.

"Hush now. Daddy's here honey. It's ok now, I've got you," he crooned and rocked, stroking her hair lightly and leaning down to press a kiss to her face, "Don't cry, Clare. I'm here."

Beside them Tommy stirred a little then sank back into the blanket. His lips silently formed the word 'Da' and broke Enqueri's heart. Clare's cries tapered off as lightening flashed nearby. Another loud peal of thunder startled her but she didn't cry again as her father slowly lulled her to sleep, holding the baby to his heart. Enqueri got up carefully so as not to jostle her awake and went to the door of the hut, standing next to Pasha, Kabuki and their children.

In the distance, clouds boiled around the mountains - huge purple thunderheads. There was a greenish cast to the sky and the wind whipped through the village fiercely. The Chopec were sheltering in their huts, though Enqueri could see the three Shamen standing in the centre of the village, watching the storm. They reminded him of three guardians, the way they stood leaning against the wind, refusing to let the stinging dust or debris sway them. Every now and then one of the men would cry out, gesturing at the storm. The thunder and lightning was almost continuous now and Enqueri turned to look at his sleeping child, before glancing towards Tommy. The child's sleep was undisturbed and Enqueri felt a faint flash of unease - perhaps the drugs Tommy had been given weren't benign after all.

A final awesome display of pyrotechnics drew Enqueri's attention. Lightning struck the ground in the centre of the village, right in front of the Eldest. He stood tall, shrieking his defiance at the clouds and thunder. There was an eerie silence as the wind stopped like someone had flicked a switch. The last clap of thunder left everyone's ears stinging in the sudden silence. The three Shamen threw their hands up and shrieked in triumph.

No one moved. There was an expectant silence as the three Shamen again faced the mountains. The clouds had rushed over the village and hung low in the sky.

Enqueri shifted uneasily, feeling a charge build against his skin, tingling all over. The baby in his arms was undisturbed by it, yet Pasha and his wife were not.

A flash of movement at the edge of the jungle drew Enqueri's eye and the black jaguar loped through the village growling low and heading right for him. The Eldest shrieked again as the jaguar leapt into Enqueri and a light breeze stirred the leaves. Enqueri staggered and then straightened, his senses flaring out at once, searching for the backbone of his existence. The silver wolf trotted out of the jungle, tongue lolling, stopping in front of the Eldest. The old man went down on his knees slowly and the wolf threw its head back and howled. Enqueri heard the first hiss of water touching leaves as a gentle rain hit them. Andarko's heartbeat filled his ears, followed by the sight of his Shaman and Guide as the man jogged out of the jungle. The howling wolf turned and leapt into him in a flash of light and Andarko bent to lift the Eldest to his feet.

The newest Shaman to the Chopec wore his curly hair tipped in red paint. Three parallel black lines traced their way diagonally from temple to jaw. He wore a thin strip of leather on the same diagonal across his bare chest and a loincloth. On his feet was a pair of native sandals. The rain that he had run before finally caught up with him and then passed him, the cool relief releasing the build up along Enqueri's skin. The Sentinel's vision zoomed in; tracing the stylised wolf carved over his Guide's heart - the raised scar already fully healed.

Andarko turned from his peers to his Sentinel, smiling and moving swiftly to his side. The baby was handed to the Chief and the Guide was eagerly gathered close. Sensitive and anxious hands checked for injury while the Guide leaned into the strength and safe haven the broad chest offered.

"Next time we travel together," Enqueri shook Andarko a little and felt the lips nestled in the crook of his neck smile in response. The Shaman tilted his head back to make eye contact.

"It's a promise," the vow was made with his heart in his eyes and Enqueri nodded. He retrieved his baby and then ushered his Guide to the sleeping boy. Andarko curled up around Tommy, pulling him close and cradling him gently. Enqueri placed Clare in Andarko's arms too and then curled around them all. Two deep breaths and they were asleep - the family reunited and safe once more.

0o0o0

Tommy Sandburg woke in his father's arms, lying with his cousin and all of them held by his favourite uncle. The little boy reached up to kiss his Da and uncle, and stroked Clare's face gently. Da woke at the first movement and kissed Tommy back, smoothing the wild curls and stroking his son's face.

"I love you Tommy," Da smiled and Tommy leaned in for a hug. Uncle Jim reached over and put Tommy and Clare between him and Da in a 'kiddie sandwich' hug that felt so good. Tommy pulled his face out of Da's chest and ran curious hands over the wolf.

"What's this Da?" he asked and then reached up to touch the paint on Da's face and in his hair.

"It's part of me," Da replied immediately, "It's part of being a Shaman."

Da and Uncle Jim were looking at him closely and Tommy smiled up at the two magical people in his life.

"Part of the magic," Tommy snuggled back in and watched Uncle Jim coo to Clare when she woke up. Looking around, Tommy realized that they weren't at home and he sat up, staring curiously. There was another man sitting nearby, watching them with a stern face but kind eyes.

"Where are we?" Tommy looked at Da, who was still lying down. Da smiled up at him and pointed outside the hut they were in.

"We're on expedition with the Chopec," Da told him and Tommy's face lit up in excitement. He bounced to his feet and trotted - bare butt naked - to the fierce man.

"I'm Tommy!" he said in Chopec, and the fierce man smiled a great big smile that changed his whole face.

"I am Pasha, Chief of the Chopec," Pasha reached out to take Tommy's hand, "You are a brave one, little warrior. You have raised him well, Andarko."

Andarko held his breath at the sight of his son confronting the Chief of the Chopec village and winning him over with a smile and a laugh. Enqueri got up as Clare began to fuss and for the first time Andarko realized his friend was wearing native clothes as well. He looked at him with an eyebrow raised and Enqueri shrugged one shoulder. Andarko nodded, understanding that his friend would have stayed here if his Shaman hadn't returned.

"She's hungry," was all Andarko said and turned his head to look at Pasha, "Can we trouble your hospitality further Chief…"

"No trouble," Pasha replied firmly and gestured for food to be brought. Clare was already crawling and pulling herself up on the furniture back home, so the fruit she was presented was no real problem for the baby. Tommy sat beside the Chief and ate voraciously. With a jolt Enqueri realized that Andarko had gone back to sleep.

"Leave him!" the Eldest voice barked the command that had him flinching back from the intended touch; "The Wheel requires much of its wielder. Let him sleep himself out. Andarko's trial is complete - he is truly the Shaman of the Great City."

"Don't yell at Uncle Jim," Tommy said sharply and Enqueri reached a hand out to his nephew to soothe him, "His hearing is better than yours and you'll give him a headache."

"Little warrior, don't tell your elders what to do," the Eldest towered over the boy but Tommy merely drew himself up tall - he barely cleared the top of the Shaman's thigh - and said firmly,

"When Da is away it's my job to take care of Uncle Jim. So stop yelling at him!" a young foot stamped for emphasis and the Eldest cackled in laughter. The Sentinel sensed his nephew had just passed a trial of his own. The little boy certainly looked like his father - wearing what Enqueri privately thought of as the 'Guide expression', equal parts determination, strength and pure 'don't-argue-or-I'll-kick-your ass-mister' attitude.

"You are fortunate in your protectors Sentinel. You will do well in the Great City," Eldest nodded to Enqueri and then Pasha, turning and stepping out into the gentle rain. The Sentinel tracked him to the edge of the village and then turned to look at his nephew.

"Finish your fruit, sweet heart," he smiled and watched the boy settle down contentedly. Inside he was shaking his head in pure wonder.

"Enqueri, your hut is ready," Pasha broke the silence, apparently as disgusted with the whole fuss over Sentinels and their Guides as Simon Banks in Cascade got. Enqueri grinned and nodded. His former home had been on the edge of the village, under a large tree that had sheltered the village children and their watchers on sunny days. It made sense to put the village's future near the Guardian. Not to mention his unusual looks and permanent scowl had kept the young ones in line for the women charged with watching them. Now Tommy and Clare would have someone to play with nearby. With Enqueri's senses tamed by his Guide the Sentinel would be able to help his former tribe out with the hunting before they had to leave. The drought would have made food scarcer and four extra mouths would be a burden on already slim resources. It was the least he could do for his people.

Pasha painted the other man's face himself - no adult male went out in public unpainted, that was the equivalent of walking down the street in your underwear - and Kabuki put a cloth on Tommy. She carried Clare and Pasha walked with Tommy while Enqueri carried the still sleeping Andarko to the familiar hut. There was evidence of recent repairs and cleaning inside the hut. The villagers had combined to outfit it for two men and two children, and Tayca had sent over a little of each herb and lotion he had, so that the Shaman of the Great City would be able to practice his craft. There was food hanging from the roof in netting woven from plant fibres and two hammocks. The children would sleep with their fathers while in the jungle - it was safer that way. The packs the two men had carried in were also in the hut, leaning against the back wall.

Andarko was settled in a hammock tenderly and his son supervised while his uncle drew a blanket across the still form. Clare was retrieved giggling from Pasha and his wife - who looked like they wanted to protest as the baby blew kisses and generally charmed the loincloths off them.

Clare and Tommy explored the hut together - the baby crawling and pulling herself up while Tommy walked and bounced around. Jim sat in the doorway and let his senses touch the village lightly, listening as the families went about their rainy day chores and discussed the Shaman that was to finish Tayca's training.

Enqueri's return was also discussed - and the improvement in his control noted by many. As hard as Incacha had tried he was unable to help the Sentinel tame the gift. His first tenure in this village had been one of inconsistent performance and a growl that even scared the adults. So far he had been in control and not really growled once. Enqueri vowed not to disappoint them.

"Uncle Jim? Can we go outside?" Tommy's voice broke into his thoughts and he looked back, smiling as Clare crawled towards him on hands and feet. She'd be walking soon - she was almost ready for it now.

"It's a bit wet," Enqueri vetoed the idea, "Why don't you come and sit with me for a while. We can play a game together. I think I can scare up enough pebbles to make up a checkers game or something."

"Can you tell us a story?" Tommy asked eagerly, bending to steer Clare to her father and then plopping down onto the beaten floor to lean against the doorjamb like his uncle was. Clare was lured between Enqueri's legs, where she immediately began climbing and petting, seeing it as a whole new game. She chuckled as she played, pushing at the strong legs and cooing nonsense words at her father. The occasional real world was intermingled there - though she wasn't up to speaking a sentence yet. She always managed to make herself understood though, and Andarko was uncanny at figuring out her most incomprehensible dialogues.

"What sort of story?" Enqueri checked his daughter couldn't escape the improvised playpen and bounced his eyebrows in invitation. Tommy chuckled and bounced back. This was a new game the two of them played together, one the boy seemed to get a kick out of.

"Why is your face painted?"

"In this village no adult goes outside without painting their face. It's like getting dressed before we leave the loft," the explanation was simple yet accurate. Tommy accepted this with a nod and proceeded to request his story.

"Tell me about the first time Da went to the station with you," for some reason the very watered down version of Blair's heroism against Kincaid was one of Tommy's favourite stories. Jim settled back a little and began to tell the story again, his voice deep and soothing as it filled the hut.

0o0o0

"What do you sense?"

The words startled Enqueri and drew him back from the potential zone - as the speaker no doubt intended. He met the knowing grin and bright eyes with a grin of his own and rested the side of his fist against the speaker's biceps. The newly awakened man was glowing with health and energy - much to Enqueri's relief. The Shaman had slept for two whole days.

"I'm not sure. It's being carried on the breeze," Enqueri opened his senses again, letting the touch of his Guide ground him fully, "Um…it's not a jungle smell. It's familiar though…if we were in Cascade I'd know it in minutes…uh…fuel! I can smell fuel and plastic and metal…a plane!"

"How far away?" Andarko lifted a hand to the others back, rubbing in small circles. There was no airstrip nearby - that meant the plane had crashed, probably in the recent storm. His mind shied away from the memory of the lodge, raw power crawling over him, the other men there screaming as it slipped from their leader's grasp, killing them, the pain…

"About a days walk," Enqueri turned to frown at him, "You alright?"

The nod was firm and the frown deepened. This was not the place to drag a confession from the Shaman - that would come later. Andarko needed to process what he had experienced and Enqueri was willing to wait for now. The Guide turned their attention back to the moment.

"Can you hear survivors?"

"A few…they're young, 'Ko," he turned back towards the jungle and felt his soul mate turn to check the children.

"We'll get there in time 'Ri," he was assured, "Go tell Pasha. Ask if he can spare a few men to come with us, and a woman to watch over the children. I'll wake them and get them fed. Also, warn Tayca that we're heading out and to be ready to come with us - the more healers we have the better."

He moved to do what he was told, letting his hearing stay in the hut to listen to the morning ritual of waking, hugging and greeting that occurred in his family. A part of him had feared he would never get to hear those joyful sounds again.

Pasha was resigned to having new guests - the village was on tight rations until the rain revived the local ecology enough for food to be more plentiful. The Sentinel promised to take the hunters out on their return to feed the extra mouths and then jogged to Incacha's old hut. Tayca was already packed - he'd had a vision that night - and the fledgling Shaman followed the Sentinel to his hut.

So far the mornings had been dry and the late afternoons wet. With luck they could get to the crash site before the afternoon rain began.

Andarko was playing with Tommy and Clare - a game that involved a lot of noise and no discernable rules as the three shrieked and laughed at each other.

Enqueri and Tayca were given breakfast and a neutral corner to eat in while the three finished their game, which only ended when both children were perched on Andarko's chest and breathless with laughter.

Almata stuck his head in, grinned at the giggling trio on the floor and announced that the men were ready to leave. The Chief's oldest daughter - a pretty young girl called Sudartto - slipped in to pluck the children from the puddle of Shaman on the floor and Tayca slipped out of the hut while the fathers said their loving farewells.

Enqueri led the way at a quick pace, the men matching him easily as they literally followed his nose. Andarko wove from side to side, tugging Tayca along and asking endless questions about the flora and fauna that they could see. The hunters marked a pig track for later investigation and several bushes were also marked for further investigation by the Shamen.

They broke at noon for water and a brief rest, chewing on the dried meat strips that they'd brought along.

"How are you?" Andarko sat beside his friend and looked him over carefully. This was the first real test of the Sentinel's senses since he'd tracked down the other Shaman. Enqueri hadn't strayed far from Andarko since then, guarding the other man's sleep.

"A little tired," Enqueri confessed, "There's so much to filter out - and the scent was already old by the time I noticed it."

"Close your eyes," Andarko directed gently, "We're going to take a little power nap."

Enqueri grimaced, but allowed himself to be talked into a light trance, letting the energy from the living things around him flow into his tired body. Almata shot Andarko an impressed look when the Sentinel sprang up full of energy fifteen minutes later.

"You're good," Almata said softly and the Shaman shrugged, ignoring the scandalized looks the other hunters were throwing their leader. Comments on a Shaman's performance of his duty were highly unusual. Not to mention risky - an offended Shaman was a dangerous enemy.

"He's stubborn," the Guide taunted and Almata rolled his eyes. He'd got the measure of the young man pretty quickly. The energy, quest for knowledge and selfless actions of the newcomer all spoke to the seasoned hunter, telling him that this man was a good friend to have - one who did not anger easily and accepted without judgement the flaws and strengths of those around him.

"He has to be," the maligned Sentinel growled, "Who else can keep you in line?"

Almata chuckled at the aggrieved look this comment garnered and shook his head. They walked for two more hours before coming across a colony of monkeys.

"They'll make excellent dinner for the survivors," Andarko encouraged the hunters, "And we can carry some back with us tomorrow for the village."

The suggestion was a popular one and in no time they had killed several of the monkeys and were ready to travel on again.

"Better hope your survivors don't get too close a look at dinner, 'Ko," there was amusement in Enqueri's voice, and his friend shrugged.

"I'm all out of Wonder Burger, 'Ri," the smug reply had him laughing and he slapped at his friend's arm like he always had. Andarko slapped back lightly and then rolled his eyes when the other man mimed great hurt.

"If you two don't behave we're going right back to the village!" Almata threatened in the manner of exasperated parents everywhere and cracked them up. Enqueri grabbed for his friend as he stumbled, he was laughing so hard.

The banter had done the trick - it had kept the Sentinel grounded and online while he tracked the last of their path through the jungle to the clearing where the wreckage was strewn.

0o0o0

Alice Cooper sat holding her best friend's hand and wished for the thousandth time that they'd decided to stay home instead of take the once in a lifetime opportunity to travel with their professor to Peru. The trip had been jinxed from the start - they'd had trouble with everything from visas to buying the right kind of shoelace.

Their original flight had been overbooked and they'd had to travel a day later with a company their professor didn't know. Now he and the pilot were dead, killed when the plane crashed after being struck by lightning in a storm that had boiled up from nowhere. Tania had been unconscious since the crash and Pete Marshall had hurt his leg pretty badly - he couldn't put any weight on it, though she'd been unable to find a break. Rick Fuller had broken his arm and was pretty badly concussed - he kept drifting in and out of awareness. Alice was pretty sure her ribs were cracked, but otherwise felt ok.

There had been no way to call for help - the whole cockpit was crushed to a quarter of its original size. They couldn't even get the bodies of the pilot and professor out to bury them.

They'd managed to start a small fire and kept it going as best they could. The rainwater collected in puddles deep enough for them to drink, but there was no food nearby. Alice worried that scavengers would smell the dead bodies trapped in the wreckage, so she and Pete had made a shelter on the other side of the clearing from it and were hoping desperately they were far enough away to be safe. They had used broken branches for camouflage.

Pete gasped in shock as a painted warrior stepped out of the jungle, his weapons tracking across the clearing for danger before relaxing. Five more men stepped out behind him - four of them jogged over to the shelter unerringly as the tallest man gestured to it accurately. The tallest headed for the wreckage with the remaining man. There was something about the two of them that was different, but Alice was distracted by the arrival of the first man.

"Habla espanõl?" Alice asked hopelessly and was answered in a language she didn't know. The four men moved into the shelter, dropping monkey carcasses in a pile and gently touching everything in sight. One of them started stroking Tania's curly red hair and crooning softly. He was a young man and carried no weapons.

"Hey!" Alice freaked, reaching over to knock his hands away. He spoke incomprehensibly and reached out again slowly. Alice tensed up and raised her hand to strike out again.

"Easy," a voice soothed in a familiar accent, "He's a Shaman. He wants to help her."

"You speak English?!" Pete exclaimed as Alice stared into the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. This was the shorter man - he was also unarmed, though he carried a pouch made of animal skins.

"How many native South American's have curly hair and blue eyes?" the tallest man rumbled in English, stepping into the shelter too, "Just take it easy and let us check you out. I'm a trained field medic and we're lucky to have two bona fide Shamen with us."

"What?" Alice shivered, as the blue eyes seemed to draw her in. It felt like they were piercing her soul, seeing everything she was and wanted to be.

"Your ribs are cracked, but not broken. What's the name of your friend?" the first American asked and the gaze switched off, looking down at Tania.

"Tania Coleman," Alice shivered, "She hasn't woken since the crash."

The curly haired man relayed her words to the Shaman and the young man gestured helplessly, speaking rapidly. The American replied in a chastising tone and reached for Tania's abdomen. He called the tall man over and spoke at length while the tall man touched Tania and replied to what seemed to be a never-ending stream of questions and demands. Something he said sparked the young Shaman into action and the curly haired one grinned before moving to look over Rick's injuries.

The three hunters - Alice could clearly see the difference now she'd had a chance to look at the group closely - started to skin and gut the monkeys, burying the offal and cleaning the skin thoroughly to be cured later. Alice forced herself not to watch; knowing that this was going to be dinner tonight and too hungry to really object. They'd planned on buying rations in a small town before heading up the mountain on foot to study the remains of a temple. They'd never made it to the town, hence the lack of food.

Rick was dosed with something that smelled pretty potent and Pete's leg was wrapped firmly in another smelly concoction. Between them the Shaman and the curly haired guy got some potion into Tania and then headed for the wreckage.

"Where are they going?" Alice craned her neck. The tall American shrugged.

"Andarko's showing Tayca the rituals for the dead. They're the closest things to clergy you're going to find out here. Don't worry, Andarko will give them a few Western prayers too," he replied.

"Who are Andarko and Tayca? Who are you for that matter?" Pete voiced their confusion and got a wry grin in reply.

"Sorry, I'm Enqueri of the Chopec. Also known as Detective Jim Ellison from the Cascade PD. Tayca is the Shaman-in-training for the Chopec: he's the young guy that first touched Tania. Andarko is the Shaman that's training him…"

"But he's American!" Alice protested, and Jim Ellison shrugged at her. It wasn't his job to raise the student's awareness. Blair Sandburg was the teacher of the family.

"I think I know him," Pete mused, "He's…Dr... Sandburg! We read one of his papers on closed societies in class for extra credit!"

"Whoa - that's­ Dr. Sandburg?" Alice turned to look again. Jim nodded, enjoying the shock on her face a little. It was good to know that his friend had a reputation in academia despite working almost exclusively for the PD. Blair published articles now and then - usually at the request of one university or another - but his friend the eternal student had declined Rainier's offer to teach while he went for a second Ph.D.

"How did he become a Shaman?" Pete asked, "I thought he was Jewish!"

"You never heard of a Jewish Shaman kid?" Jim grinned as Blair's voice drifted on the wind, chanting a prayer for the repose of the dead in Cantonese - the same one he'd chanted for the pilot of their own crashed aircraft so long ago.

"I guess not…" Pete trailed off, then brightened, "Do you think he'd let me interview him?"

"Save it for later," Jim advised as Blair stepped back into sight. Tayca was speaking to him in a quiet voice and Andarko was nodding in agreement. He looked over at the shelter and spoke quietly in Quecha before heading with Tayca into the jungle.

"Almata, go with them please," Enqueri requested in Quecha, obeying his orders to stay and translate for the survivors. Almata grabbed his bow and jogged after the Shamen.

"You speak the dialect very well," Alice complimented him and Jim shrugged.

"I lived with them for eighteen months years ago - they rescued me," he grinned at the irony, "What goes around, comes around."

"No offence, but I don't want to live here for eighteen months," Pete sighed. Jim flicked a smile at him as he accepted a stick full of monkey meat and started cooking it.

"You won't be," he assured them, "We'll get you back to the village tomorrow and when you're recovered we'll head for civilization."

"What about Dr. Sandburg's research?" Alice asked curiously.

"We're done here," Jim assured her, "Besides, our boss back home will be going nuts if we don't get back soon."

Alice nodded and squeezed Tania's hand. She thought there was more to the story than the cop was telling them, but chose not to pry - as a fellow academic Dr. Sandburg would probably be freer with his information.

0o0o0

Tania woke the next morning long enough to take a larger dose of whatever medicine the Shamen were treating her with. She was loaded onto a litter to be carried by the three hunters and Ellison. Rick had finally come back to himself and reality and walked along under his own power. Pete's leg could bear his weight again, though it was still very painful. The Shaman and Dr. Sandburg were helping him along while Alice trudged along next to Rick, wincing when the rough terrain jostled her ribs.

They arrived at the village well after sunset. Tania was carried away to Tayca's hut and Rick and Peter were ushered away to the men's hut - all unmarried men that were adults slept there until they married. Alice was ushered to the women's hut with Ellison promising to come and get her in the morning. She was given a hammock near the door and settled into it gingerly. A young woman leaned over her, patting her face gently with a wet cloth and then washing her hands and arms as well. Alice went to sleep, comforted by the attentions and exhausted by the journey.

A curly haired little boy patting her face lightly woke her. He was the spitting image of Dr. Sandburg and the mother in her was outraged that the man had dragged a baby this far around the world.

"Shhh," the little boy whispered, "Uncle Jim sent me in to get you. He can't enter the women's hut."

Alice nodded and got up stiffly, her ribs feeling better than last night.

Whatever foul weed Tayca had made her chew yesterday had some positive effects at least.

"I'm Tommy Sandburg," the child introduced himself when she was standing, holding out his hand take hers.

"Alice Cooper," she replied, letting him lead her into the sunshine as the women around her stirred and woke to start their day. Ellison was standing outside, a respectful distance away from the hut, his face painted in the local fashion. He was talking to a blond baby - barely a year old from the size of her - and snuggling her close to his chest.

"Good morning, Mr. Ellison," Alice didn't try to hide her outrage and the cop ignored it to smile pleasantly. The baby turned her face shyly into his chest and he kissed the top of her head before replying.

"Call me Jim," he told her, "We'll just collect Rick and Pete, then we can go see Tania."

"And Da!" Tommy piped up, bouncing on the spot. His uncle looked down at him and smiled. Even after all this time Tommy Sandburg's bounce brought an instant grin to his uncle's face.

"And your Da," he agreed, "He was very busy last night, so he might be a bit tired now."

"We'll make him sleep again, like he did when it rained all day!" Tommy declared, "It made him all better! Do you feel all better now?"

Alice realized the question was for her and she smiled at the boy bouncing along in front of them.

"Yes, I do," she replied. Rick and Pete were standing near the men's hut, looking around anxiously. The villagers were up and about, beginning the never ending round of chores and food preparation. Many called greetings to the cop and the child. Both replied fluently in that language. Rick and Pete both stared in shock at the baby and the boy, but swallowed any comment and followed Ellison to the Shaman's hut.

"Hey Chief, you up?" Jim called into the darkened hut. Tommy bounced in excitement on the spot.

"I'm not the only one," came the laughing reply and Tayca and Blair emerged with a shaky Tania between them. Pale and obviously weak, she never the less smiled at her friends happily. The two men assisted her to a seat against the hut and then Tayca disappeared back inside while Tommy was swept up for hugs and kisses.

He told Blair all about the game he'd learnt to play yesterday with Sudartto and how he and three of the other boys had climbed the big tree that hung over the hut.

"If it was a bit taller I bet I could see Cascade!" Tommy insisted and his father had laughed in agreement.

"And how is my niece?" Blair leaned in and got a kiss and a pat from Clare before snuggling his son closer and sitting down on the ground. Jim joined them, making the usual cage for Clare from his legs. Tayca emerged with the medicines for his patients, who grimaced at each other but took it obediently. Tommy looked up and rushed to help Sudartto and her mother Kabuki carry breakfast, followed closely by his father who scolded them gently in Quecha for carrying loads for such lazy people. Jim's reply was also in Quecha and had them all laughing while Pasha's wife fussed over the arrangement of the food.

"We'll have to go hunting soon," Jim said as Blair settled back down and supervised his son's breakfast.

"How about this afternoon. We can work on tracking the game by scent first," it was Andarko who replied and Enqueri responded, nodding as he chewed a ripe fruit to a pulp and then fed it to his daughter a finger scoop at a time.

"Tommy, we must remember not to tell Enqueri's secret to our new friends. The village already knows, but they don't," Andarko cautioned and received an obedient nod in reply. He switched to English, inquiring after his charges health and comfort and receiving positive replies.

"So, what are you two doing here?" Rick asked as he watched the two fathers tend their children. Jim froze, wondering how to answer that. Blair saved him the worry.

"We were invited," he smiled, "Jim told you he used to live here? Well, a while ago some of the warriors and the local Shaman came to visit Jim in Cascade. When they left we kind of made a commitment with them. We're fulfilling that commitment. Tommy and Clare couldn't be left behind - they are a part of the village too."

"Haven't you kind of gone native?" Alice pressed the issue and Blair shook his head, grinning. Going native was the worst sin an anthropologist could commit.

"I'm not here to publish a paper," he told her, "And you can't go native in your own home. That's what we have here. It's a long story and one that isn't for general consumption."

"What does that mean?" Tommy asked curiously, and his uncle tweaked a curl teasingly. The boy was far too sharp for his own good sometimes.

"That means we don't discuss it in front of short, curly-haired, little boys."

"I'm a big boy!" Tommy protested indignantly and his father laughed. The boy did indignant well.

"Yes you are, but not big enough for this discussion. I'll tell you in twelve years time, ok?"

"Promise?" Tommy looked up, his heart in his face, eyes wide and adoring as his Da smiled at him. Alice caught her breath at the love and trust in that one look.

"Promise," Blair nodded and tweaked a curl too. Tommy pulled a face and tweaked his father's hair in retaliation, which led to a tickle fight. They were both pretty grubby by the time that was over and Blair took his son to the river for a wash, with Jim and Clare shadowing them closely.

"What do you make of them?" Tania asked Alice, and her friend shook her head in confusion.

"I don't really care, I'm just glad that they were here," Alice confessed, "Though I'm surprised they brought their children along."

"From what I've heard, Dr. Sandburg had travelled all over the world as a kid before settling in America to get his first degree. I guess he doesn't see anything wrong with bringing his son along," Rick mused and Pete shrugged.

"I don't see anything wrong with it personally. Look at how happy the kids were and how well they were taken care of. There are kids back in so-called civilization that aren't cared for half as well as that little boy and that baby," he told his friends, "Besides, it's not really any of our business."

"You're right," Tania agreed in a low voice.

0o0o0

Epilogue

Simon Banks got out of the car, watched Daryl lock the driver's side, and grinned over at his son. They'd have to go looking for a car for the teen soon; he was almost ready for his license.

"You did well, Daryl," he watched the young man light up in pleasure at the compliment. They'd been working on Daryl's skills for a while now, and at the moment it was the only thing guaranteed to bring a smile to his child's face. No one had heard from Ellison or Sandburg for a month - no one knew if their children were ok or not.

"Thanks Dad," Daryl unlocked the trunk and they pulled the food and blanket out. The semi-annual PD picnic had fallen on a hot Saturday and Simon had ordered the families of Major Crimes to attend - they needed the affirmation at the moment.

He knew that several other Captains had done the same thing; the unresolved tension from the kidnapping was beginning to affect morale. Quinn was back inside, but they'd been unable to tie him to the missing children.

Simon led his son to the spot 'reserved' for Major Crimes - three big picnic tables near the huge fountain. Joel and Rafe had already strung out the shade cloths above the tables for a little relief from the heat and several of the kids were already paddling in the water under the watchful eye of Brown. The big cop was wary of fountains - they all were nowadays.

Daryl deposited the esky on the ground near a table and fished out a beer for his father and a soda for himself. Simon had made a huge bowl of potato salad - his specialty - and this was placed with the other salads and cold cuts on one table.

"All that's missing is Sandy's famous fried chicken salad and Jim's rice salad," Megan Connor smiled, her tight top and abbreviated shorts showing off her tan and fit figure.

"Yeah," Simon sighed, "I talked to Mr. Ellison a couple of nights ago - there was no word from them. It's like the damn jungle ate them."

"We must taste pretty nasty then, because it spat us back out again," Jim's amused voice sounded behind them and Simon swung around.

"Hey Simon," he smiled and Simon stared. Jim was holding his daughter on his hip, both of them tanned and smiling. Clare had grown so much she was barely recognizable to the Captain, her blonde hair longer and floating in the breeze. She wore a pair of cotton shorts and a T-shirt in bright yellow with a yellow checked hat on her head. She was looking around with big eyes at all the strange people and clutching her Daddy's short-sleeved shirt in one hand.

"Ellison!" Simon roared and the men and women of Major Crimes headed for the tables at a dead run.

"Jeez, you haven't lost any of your volume, Simon," Blair said from behind the man, where he was putting two bowls on the table. Tommy was clinging onto his back, grinning at his adopted uncle in delight.

"Hi Uncle Simon!" Tommy squirmed down his father's back and ran over, putting his arms up for a hug, which Simon gave enthusiastically.

There was a general love fest as the two children were passed around for hugs and kisses. Their fathers came in for their fair share of attention and a few hugs of their own. Daryl ended up with Clare in his arms and he looked over at Detective Ellison uneasily. Clare patted him on the face and smiled before leaning in and blowing a raspberry on his cheek.

"She's glad to see you Daryl," Jim was delighted, "It's her newest trick to say hello."

Daryl finally understood that no one blamed him for something that was never his fault in the first place and smiled back at his father's friend. Tommy was shrieking as Joel and Rafe played airplanes with him, whirling the boy in dizzying circles and even tossing him up in the air.

Eventually everyone settled down to eat; the children at one noisy table with Daryl presiding, and the adults at the other. Husbands and wives listened to the edited highlights of the trip to Peru and Tommy's blessed amnesia over the whole thing. Clare rested in Jim's lap; already asleep and enormously comfortable in her father's loving arms.

"Only the two of you could get sidetracked by a plane load of grad students," Simon groaned when told of the reason for the delay in returning to Cascade. They'd had to wait a few weeks for Tania to recover her strength and Tayca to undergo his final trial to attain his Shaman status.

"Hey! Not all grad students are trouble!" Blair defended them - he'd been there himself.

"The ones you know are," Simon's growl earned a chuckle around the table and a sigh from his opponent.

"Seriously guys - we both want to thank you for the support you gave us…we'd never have survived without you all," Blair looked around at them and their friends nodded, made dismissive noises and patted hands.

"That doesn't mean we're offering to baby sit for anyone," Jim broke the mood and Blair rolled his eyes as their friends cracked up and swapped insulting remarks. Simon exchanged a level look with the two men - he'd be demanding the unedited version of their trip later, and would get it too.

After all, as the Chief of this particular tribe he was entitled to know - and as the leader of the closed society that they worked for he'd demand it. Blair grinned at his boss and raised his soda in a toast.

"Welcome home," Simon returned the toast and Jim joined it with his own soda.

"Good to be home," Jim spoke for them both.

End Trials…

0o0o0

Begin Moments…


	7. Moments

Moments

by Shedoc

0o0o0

Ah, Saturday morning in Cascade. A day of sunshine - for a change - a day for peace and quiet and family. Blair sighed and wished he were with them. Jim was running errands and Tommy was on a play date at Miki's, leaving Blair and Clare alone in the loft. Normally that wouldn't be a problem, but the phone had rung…

Blair ignored the pull on his trousers as Clare Ellison used him as a stepladder to pull herself upright. The little girl was becoming more and more confident in her explorations of the world around her since their return from Peru.

"Yes, Mr. Milton, I understand that you're concerned about Tommy and want to see him, but it would be better if you came to Cascade. I realize that it's difficult for her to travel. No, I'm not denying you your rights as a Grandfather. We've got a heavy court load coming up; it will be at least five weeks before I can…No. I will not send him alone…"

Blair felt the tug that was Clare let go as the front door opened and glanced over to see his brother and soul mate in the doorway. A glance at the frown told him that the Sentinel had caught the tone of his voice during a routine sweep of the loft and its inhabitants - something Jim did almost unconsciously. His arms were empty - that meant he'd left any groceries in the truck in order to get upstairs to his family quicker.

"Look," Blair's voice sharpened to outright disapproval, "It's not doable at the moment…Omigod! Jim! She's walking!"

Blair dropped the phone to the counter in excitement as Clare - wanting a hug from her daddy and unable to reach - let go of the cupboard she was leaning against and wobbled over unsteadily, her arms in the air.

"Daddy!" she cried and Jim unfroze, putting his arms out to his baby as she took her first steps towards him, a huge smile lighting her face.

"Come here honey!" he crooned and Clare stumbled into his arms as the camera Blair had located in the kitchen drawer flashed, immortalizing the moment for them all.

"Clever girl!" Jim praised, "What a clever little girl you are!"

Clare laughed and patted his face - her own version of Sentinel touch that she'd inherited from her father. Jim kissed her soundly as Blair took another picture and then put her back on her feet.

"Go to Uncle Blair," the Sentinel urged and her uncle dropped to one knee, holding out a hand and calling encouragement. Clare toddled over - a bit steadier this time and Blair took two quick photos before tossing the camera up on the bench and sweeping his niece up for a hug and kiss.

By the time he remembered the phone, Mr. Milton had hung up. Blair shrugged and switched the cordless off, passing his niece to her father and grabbing the crate they kept on hand to load groceries into. It saved trips, and Jim had persuaded his friend that it was also better for the environment because it could be reused over and over again. It also saved the worry of having the bottom drop out and spilling your groceries down three flights of stairs - because the elevator wasn't working again.

"I'll grab the stuff - you start unpacking. Then we'll pick up Tommy and celebrate," Blair's voice floated behind him as he hurried out the door and down the corridor without pause. Jim bounced his daughter on his hip and pulled a face at her.

"What was that all about, honey?" he asked. Naturally, Clare did not reply.

Neither did Blair when he returned with the first load, piling the groceries out of the crate and onto the counter before handing the crate to Jim for the next load.

"Later," Blair smiled for his friend, "Let's not worry about it right now."

The Sentinel was forced to accept that answer as Blair started stacking shelves in Jim's kitchen with quick efficiency. Clare was reluctantly put down and Jim hurried to the truck and back with his last load, leaving the full crate on the counter while he sat on the floor with Clare. She climbed between his legs as she had in the Chopec village and then decided to visit with her uncle, tottering unsteadily for a few paces before falling over with a thump. She blinked in surprise, but before Jim could rush to see if she was all right she was crawling rapidly on all fours to the kitchen.

"Don't fuss if she falls Jim, it's all part of the learning process," Blair murmured at Sentinel level and then smiled at the baby who was again using him as a step ladder, "Isn't it, precious?"

"Chief, don't call her that," Jim groaned, getting up as Blair picked Clare up.

"Precious snuggle bunny, honey muffin, snookums," Blair cooed at her and she blew raspberries at him while her father eyed her uncle in outrage. Jim grinned when his friend glanced at him from under his lashes and sighed. This joke between them had begun when a stranger had cooed nonsense names at Clare in the park and Jim confessed how much he hated that sort of thing. Blair only did it to tease when Tommy wasn't around - the boy wouldn't realize it was a game.

"I'll finish putting the groceries away," he gave up the battle, knowing that if he retaliated Blair would escalate. Blair grinned in triumph and turned to help with his free hand, bouncing lightly as he did, to Clare's amusement.

"What time do we get Tommy?" Jim asked when he'd closed the fridge. Blair put his niece on her feet and she toddled the short distance to her father, giggling madly.

"Twelve thirty," Blair smiled at the happy baby and proud father, "I've got a file to review - I'll be next door if you need me."

Jim sighed and watched his partner leave. Blair didn't hide from them often, but when he did, there was a good reason. Given that he'd just been speaking to the Miltons…

Jim snatched Clare up and strode next door, his heart beating loudly.

"Are they trying to gain custody?" he blurted when Blair looked up from the scuffed case he kept police files in on the rare occasion he brought work home. Both men were very conscious to lock away disturbing material from young eyes now.

"What?" Blair looked confused and then his face cleared, "No! We're safe, Jim. Calm down. Why don't you put Clare in her pen for a moment and we'll talk."

As he spoke he was stuffing the report back in the case and locking it - now the problem had been broached Jim wouldn't rest until he knew all. They walked back into Jim's loft and he placed his daughter in the corner that he'd built a rail across. It encompassed part of the glass wall that led to the balcony, so she had sunlight to play in, and was large enough for Tommy to play in too. As he straightened there was a knock at the door and Blair opened it on William Ellison.

"Dad!" Jim beamed, picking his daughter up again, "Look what Clare can do!"

He steadied her on her feet as William walked around the couch. She shouted in welcome when she caught sight of Poppy and wobbled on over, falling just as she got to his feet. She giggled up at her Poppy and put her arms up for a hug.

"You brilliant thing!" William exclaimed, tossing her up in the air a little to make her squeal and blowing raspberries on her tummy; "When did you learn to walk?"

"Just this morning," Jim beamed proudly, "She wanted a hug and couldn't reach me where I was."

William sat on the couch and made a fuss of his granddaughter while Blair boiled water for coffee and brewed up. Father and son played happily, reciting the teddy bear rhyme on her little hand and tickling gently amid much squeals and laughter. Blair distributed coasters and then coffee and Jim put Clare back in her pen with the blue toy bear her grandfather 'found' in his pocket.

"Dad, I don't want to seem rude, but Blair and I were going to have a talk…" Jim felt much more comfortable telling his father this than he would have years ago. It was not a rejection and William knew it.

"Do you want me to go?" William offered, "I just stopped by to see what you were all doing for lunch."

"It's ok - there's no dire secret involved here," Blair vetoed the idea before Jim could even reply, "Jim walked in on a phone call and he's concerned."

"You're sure, son?" William asked Blair, who flushed in pleasure at the name and nodded. He still couldn't get over William's acceptance of him - though he couldn't bring himself to call the older man 'dad' like Jim did.

"Yeah," he smiled happily and then sobered, "Ok, Mr. Milton called me this morning. He's got a lawyer in Cascade who keeps track of Tommy for him."

"What?" this was the first Jim had heard of it, and William frowned in disapproval. Blair shrugged. In a way it made sense to him - that two emotionally closed off people would choose to use a buffer in keeping track of their only daughter's child. It was sad, but at least they had made that much of an effort.

"I thought there was no contact except the money they sent for birthdays and Christmas," William leaned over to retrieve his coffee and Jim nodded vigorously. While he was disappointed the Miltons hadn't made more effort to stay in touch, he was also perversely happy that they had so little to do with the boy they'd tried to turn into a robot.

"Yeah, that's right. I guess the guy would have just kept an eye on the news and gossip columns if I hadn't figured it out. I send him a monthly report and photos…and before you explode Jim, I didn't tell you because it wasn't a big issue for me, and I do it because I want them to know he's happy."

"And let them know that their spy was spotted," William chuckled while his first born fumed, "Very shrewd, Blair."

"Hmmm," Blair took a non-committal sip and eyed his brother. When he was sure Jim had calmed down he told the rest of the tale.

"They heard about the kidnapping of course, and our return to Cascade. They want a visit with Tommy, to make sure he's all right. Mrs. Milton had a minor stroke just after Christmas - she's lost some mobility and stamina apparently. She's not able to journey here, and my workload at the moment is too heavy to take Tommy there for longer than a weekend - and that's so short it's not really worth the effort, he should spend a week with them at least. Clare took her first steps halfway through the argument and I dropped the phone. Mr. Milton hung up."

"Are you sure you want Tommy to visit for such a long time?" Jim frowned, "He doesn't like them very much."

"He's come a long way since Amelia died, Jim. He should get to know her parents. And they should get to see him - especially after Peru," Blair replied evenly. He was not going to argue the point. At least one set of blood relatives should get to know their grandson. Naomi had disappeared completely - leaving Blair wondering if his mother even knew about Peru. Surely she didn't hate him so much that she'd abandon her grandson?

"Is this the Charles Milton from New York who runs the import company?" William spoke up, and Blair nodded, relieved to have his thoughts interrupted.

"I know him, then. We've met several times at various conferences and dinners," William frowned, "Your Tommy is a member of that family? Thank God he takes after you!"

Jim laughed at that and Blair grinned wryly. William smiled and put his coffee cup down.

"Why don't I take Tommy to New York? He can visit the Miltons and we'll sight see. Maybe we can take his grandfather with us," William offered, and held up a hand before Blair could refuse, "Seriously, I'd love to take him. Consider it, ok? We don't have to settle anything today."

Blair promised to think it over.

0o0o0

Simon grinned over at his son's startled face. He'd been pleased when Jim and Blair had first approached him about asking Daryl to baby-sit again. That the Sentinel and Guide trusted his son after the last attempt to baby-sit meant a lot to their Captain. The look on his child's face was priceless - Simon wished he'd brought his camera along to capture it.

"You want me to baby-sit?" Daryl spluttered, and Jim nodded, his face impassive. They were seated side by side at a booth in Planet Burger - a theme family restaurant that catered to young children. Tommy was in the ball pit, shrieking and romping about and Clare was in her high chair next to Jim. Blair was sitting sideways to watch his son, but he grinned over at Daryl in support. He knew that Daryl had blamed himself and been seriously depressed over the whole abduction mess.

"If you're busy tonight…" Jim trailed off. He wasn't going to push the teenager into doing something that he wasn't ready for, "Or if you're uncomfortable with it, we understand. Dad could probably sit for us instead."

"No!" Daryl protested, sitting bolt upright in his urgency, "I want to do it! I just thought that after last time…"

Last time, when the children had been stolen and he'd been drugged and helpless before one of his father's enemies…Daryl repressed the shiver that wanted to travel through his frame. He wasn't going to let this pull him down.

"That was not your fault, Daryl, and it certainly won't happen again," Blair replied firmly, not taking his eyes from his son, "The people who did it are in no shape to try that again - I promise you."

For some reason that factual and dry statement bolstered Daryl's morale more than any longwinded and flowery speech ever could.

"What time do you want me to be there?" Daryl grinned finally, relaxing back against the booth.

"I'll drop you off at seven," Simon told his son, pride radiating from every pore.

0o0o0

They had chosen to go to Simon's house for their Peru debrief - not exactly neutral territory, but a lot closer to the loft in case things went wrong. Neither man wanted to tempt fate. The weather was still warm enough for Simon to fire up the grill and all three sat out on his patio to eat.

Once the detritus from the meal had been cleared away, Simon handed out the final beer of the evening and then fixed his friends with a no nonsense glare.

"I'll deny I ever said this in the light of day, but I want to know exactly what happened to you guys out in Peru," he began, "The whole nine yards - Sentinel stuff as well."

Jim took a sip from his bottle and nodded. Blair's eyes gleamed in the darkness at his boss and he chuckled, a low sound. Simon stared, mesmerized, as his friend and subordinate became someone else entirely in the starlight. There was an aura to the young man that Simon had never seen before.

"You asked for it," Blair warned and gestured to Jim. The Sentinel sighed and leaned forward.

"We reached the Chopec after four days of hiking. They welcomed us and Pasha named Blair kin - called him Andarko. He told us that the village had two shamen - one from a neighbouring tribe and one… beginner. It was the outsider that had taken the children…he wanted Andarko…to control the magic."

Simon leaned back in his chair and listened as the incredible tale unfolded. The history of the magic their rival sought to control, the desperate rush through the forest to find his lair and then the heartbreaking agony of the Sentinel being forced, by ancient promises, to choose between his Guide and their children.

There was a moment of silence and Simon shifted a little, breaking the spell.

"What happened next?" he asked, seeing the tremors that wracked Jim's body and the fine stress in Blair's face. In reply Blair stripped to the waist, revealing the howling wolf carved into his chest. The scar gleamed in the light coming from Simon's house, seeming to ripple with a movement all of its own.

"I got my witch doctorate," he said simply, surprising an unhappy bark of laughter from his partner that eventually gave way to genuine mirth. Simon watched the curly haired man soothe his partner back into serenity.

"Pity it doesn't translate for the Chopec," Jim mused, "I'm glad we won't have to deal with the Eldest again. Hey, I even avoided that talk he threatened me with."

"You really don't like him, do you?" Blair regarded his soul mate in astonishment, "What's wrong, 'Ri?"

The Chopec nickname seemed to breach a wall that Enqueri had built around his memories. He leapt up from his chair to pace frenetically across the patio.

"When you…your trial…fuck it!" The swear word sounded so out of place that Blair blinked. The Sentinel took a deep breath and ordered his thoughts, then sat down with his knees touching that of his Guide. Taking a deep breath he recounted everything he did and felt from the time Andarko placed Clare in his arms to the Shaman Guide's return to Pasha's hut.

"He was right, you have spoken of this," Blair reflected for a moment, "All I can tell you is that the jaguar was there to help me…and when we were free it led the wolf and I back to the village…the whole trial is fading 'Ri. I can barely remember what I said to get the children away from him, I certainly don't remember him carving this into my chest."

Andarko cupped the wolf with his hand and looked Enqueri in the eye. They spoke in English out of habit, but Simon felt as if they didn't even remember his existence.

"I don't want to remember. I don't want to feel it all again. What little I do remember is a nightmare that lurks in the corner of my mind when I sleep. And unless it comes back full force I'm going to let it go, 'Ri. Some things just aren't meant to be remembered."

Enqueri leaned forward until their foreheads were touching lightly.

"I'm here, 'Ko. That's all I can give you."

"Believe me - that is enough."

There was a length of silence then Jim straightened up and Blair got dressed again, shooting an embarrassed look at Simon, who did his best to look as if this kind of thing happened to him all the time. Blair grinned a little - Pasha had worn the same look. He finished his beer and let them regain their composure.

"So, once you'd both recovered you found that plane load of kids," Simon prompted them, not willing to ask questions about something that was obviously a painful and private experience. Jim nodded and sighed.

"Yeah, we sure did," he agreed, "And they were full of questions about everything. Typical anthropologists if you ask me."

"Not that we did," Blair grinned over at his friend, "They were especially disapproving of the way we'd gone native, and the girls were both outraged that we'd dragged our children along with us."

"They kept asking how we could trust our data," Jim shook his head at the memory of that particular argument, "We're all standing in the middle of the village, arms waving, voices raised when Pasha comes up and frowns at us."

"He tells the kids not to be so disrespectful, then he tells Jim the hunting party is waiting for him and would I mind going to Tayca's hut because one of the village women has been bitten by something and is wailing loud enough to wake the dead? So Jim and I split up and take off and Pasha kind of nods to the kids and heads off to the men's hut," Blair shook his head, "Later on we managed to explain that neither of us was there to publish a paper - we were just visiting family. That kind of puts a lid on it for a while."

"Of course, the fact that the kids don't speak Quechua at all and we have to translate for them kind of helps. They picked up enough of the language by the end of the third week to make themselves understood," Jim mused and then shook his head; "It took us a week to get back. The kids weren't too strong yet and Tommy and Clare had to be carried every step of the way."

Simon bit his lip and looked over at Blair. Such a journey would have exhausted the young man - who had seemed fragile to Simon in the aftermath of the plane crash and surgery he'd undergone.

"That's another thing," he decided to breach the topic while they were in a confiding mood, "Before all this started, Sandburg, you…weren't as…bouncy as before."

"Yeah, I was tired," Blair nodded, "But it's ok, Simon. Since the trial and our stay in the village I've been better at balancing my duties and responsibilities."

"And I'm more aware of what he needs now - my senses are trained pretty firmly on him," Jim confessed, "If he's tiring I can make him rest. We weren't really taking care of each other properly before. It's another thing we learnt in the village. The village grandmother gave us lots and lots of advice and instructions and rules. Lots and lots and lots."

"Sentinel care," Blair put in cheekily. Simon laughed and toasted the young man with his empty beer bottle. Jim frowned at them both.

"Guide care," Jim corrected, "You already had Sentinel care down to a fine art."

There was a little silence at that and then Blair stirred in his chair.

"We should get going," the young Shaman pretended that comment had never been made, "We promised Daryl we'd be home early."

He stood and collected the empty bottles, and Simon stood as well. Jim looked up at them and let it go. It was enough that Blair knew how he felt about the care his soul mate lavished on him.

0o0o0

William Ellison got out of the cab and turned, putting out a hand for Tommy to take. His grandson looked around curiously while William closed the cab door and then pointed at the doorman. The child was clutching a bouquet of tea roses for his Grandmother that they had purchased on the way.

"Is that Grandfather's front door?" Tommy looked up and William smiled. Blair had spent a week talking to Tommy about the visit to New York and all the things Poppy and Grandfather would do with him, in an effort to reduce the stress the visit was sure to cause. Tommy hadn't been too keen to go until Blair had explained that Grandmother wasn't well and couldn't come all this way to see him. The little boy's kind heart had given in straight away.

The fact that he was going on expedition with Poppy was another selling point and William had brought a lot of tourist material around for them to plan their itinerary together. He'd also come to help with the packing, amused at the way Tommy inspected the clothes carefully until Jim took him aside and explained about the suits.

Blair had been very adamant that his son would not wear anything he didn't want to - suits especially. William had promised not to let Tommy be pressured into anything and Jim had eventually stepped in, murmuring in his brother's ear and listening to the silent replies.

"It is," William answered Tommy's question, "Are you ready to visit?"

"Yes," Tommy nodded and smiled at the doorman as he opened the door. His cheerful 'thank you' earned a wide smile and William led the way to the security-come-reception desk.

"Tommy Sandburg and William Ellison to see Charles Milton," William announced and they were ushered to the appropriate lift. Tommy shifted closer and looked carefully at his roses before smiling up at William.

"Grandmother will feel better once she sees these - I remember she always had them on her table," he said confidently. William reached down to rub his hand over the curly head. Tommy had gone for a haircut before the expedition, and insisted that William have one too.

"I'm sure she will kiddo," William agreed as the lift stopped and the doors opened. The foyer was unchanged and Tommy led the way confidently to the Milton's front door. It opened just before he reached it and Charles Milton stood there. He was dressed in his customary three-piece suit, watch chain at his waist and a dour look upon his face.

"Hello Grandfather!" Tommy exclaimed and hurried forward. Milton's face got even dourer.

"Good morning Thomas," his voice was cool and Tommy hesitated, looking over at William for a moment. Then he shrugged, walked to his Grandfather, and ignored the hand that was stretched out for a handshake to give the frowning man a hug, careful not to crush his grandmother's flowers. When Milton stood still, Tommy tipped his head back to make eye contact.

"In this family, we hug back when someone says hello," the boy's voice was reproachful and expectant. William willed himself not to smile or laugh as Milton's scowl failed to put Tommy in his place. The older man's hand patted at Tommy's back reluctantly and Tommy let go, stepping back to stand next to William. His Da had given Tommy an important job to do when he first met his grandparents and Tommy reached up a hand to tug William forward now.

"Grandfather, this is my Poppy, William. Poppy, this is my grandfather," Tommy recited and William smiled down at him proudly.

"William Ellison," William stressed the name a little and saw recognition light in Milton's eyes, "I was sorry for your loss."

"Thank you, William. Charles Milton. Didn't we meet last year at the Euro Conference?" Milton was back on familiar ground now, and William felt a shock of recognition. This was him four years ago, before he'd met his son again and then finally managed to repair the damage he'd done to his family with the help of his adopted child Blair.

"Yes we did," William nodded, "I was surprised when Blair told me of Tommy's connection to you. I never realized you'd met my youngest."

"His name is Sandburg, not Ellison," the surprise got them past the front door and into the hallway. William smiled, enjoying the confusion on the other man's face. From what Jimmy had told him the Miltons were very hostile to their grandson's father. That and the fact that they'd hired someone to spy on his grandson, rather than taking an active interest in the child wiped any sympathy William might have felt for the estranged grandparents.

"His mother's name," William nodded, and made a dismissive gesture. He was relieved when Milton let the matter drop. He didn't wish to lie outright - Blair was his son in the ways that mattered. An outright lie would lead to an argument - the last thing Tommy needed to see.

Milton led the way down the expensively decorated hall to the lounge room where Mrs. Milton sat in a wing armchair. William remembered her name was Amelia too - their daughter had been named after her. Tommy smiled when he saw her, apparently not noticing the slight droop to one corner of her mouth, the pale cashmere rug across her knees or the cane that leaned against her chair.

"Hello Grandmother!" Tommy trotted over, avoiding the antique furniture easily; "I brought you some flowers!"

He placed the flowers in her lap and then leaned over for a hug. Her hand petted his back for a moment and then Tommy pulled away, standing back so she could look over the flowers. Her smile was a bit crooked.

"Thank you Thomas," she said in a low voice and Tommy bounced lightly on his toes.

"Da says you've been sick. Are you all better now?" he asked with the genuine concern that marked his dealings with everyone. Mrs. Milton looked up at her husband for a moment and then nodded gently.

"This is my Poppy, William," Tommy turned, waving William over, "He came with me because Da couldn't. He knows Grandfather from a Euro."

William smiled at the informal introduction and took her hand in his lightly, straightening the information out and inquiring after her health gently. She evaded the question with grace and then held the flowers out to her husband.

"Would you call Sue?" she asked and he took the flowers tenderly, turning to call the maid for a vase. Tommy took off, and then fished around in the miniature backpack that Jim had bought for his first solo expedition, producing a small photo album.

"Da said you'd want to see some photos, Grandmother," Tommy put the pack on the floor and pushed it carefully under a table so it would be out of the way, "Do you want to look?"

"That would be nice," Mrs. Milton nodded, "You may sit on the stool there."

Tommy looked at the indicated stool and then put the album on top of it, pushing it closer to the armchair and turning to face his grandfather. The older man was placing the roses on a table near his wife, where she could see them clearly and their faint scent would reach her.

"Do you want to look too, Grandfather?" he asked Milton, who nodded and moved as if to stand behind the stool. Tommy stopped him with a touch, tugging until the older man sat on the stool and then handing the album to his grandmother.

"Help me up," Tommy ordered and William bit down on a smile. Two years of steady love and gentle encouragement had made his grandson confident. The two cold adults that had once frightened him were no match for the Sandburg genes. Tommy was perched gingerly on one knee, but would have none of it, squirming back until he was firmly in his grandfather's lap.

"Poppy?" Tommy looked up and William grinned at him, moving to stand on Mrs. Milton's other side. She opened the first page and Tommy began to talk, explaining who was in the photo, how they fit into his family and what they were doing when the photo was taken.

Just like his father, Tommy's hands gestured and waved, and his voice rose and fell in soothing cadence as he lectured his audience. Milton spent more time looking at his grandson than the photos in his wife's hands.

William added his voice to the tales when appealed to, but otherwise watched the bundle of energy that was Tommy Sandburg initiate the cold Miltons into the 'family way of doing things'. Uncle Simon and Auntie Megan were firmly introduced and accepted without so much as a twitch. Baby Clare was boasted over and Miki Solange was laughed about. A rare shot of Pasha, Kabuti and Suddarto - courtesy of the rescued grad students - was examined closely. Da featured in most of the stories: what he'd said or done when the photo was taken or shown to him for the first time.

It did not take a Sentinel to see that Da was the light of this little boy's world. The sun rose and set in him, and the moon and stars too. Da taught him to read and write his name, to tie his sneakers and to balance along the big log in the park. Uncle Jim was mentioned frequently, especially in the fishing stories from Peru and back in Cascade.

When the photos were done and Tommy had given them to his grandmother with a smile he leaned back to look at his grandfather.

"Poppy and I are going star gazing tomorrow. Would you like to come too?" the innocent invitation was accompanied by a hopeful touch and a big grin. Milton nodded stiffly and nearly flinched back from the hug before gingerly returning it.

"Grandmother? Will you be well enough to come too?" Tommy asked hopefully and she shook her head slowly. Tommy's face fell, and then he patted her hand.

"That's ok," he consoled her, "We'll bring you a present and Poppy has a camera so we'll take lots of photos too. Then you won't miss out."

The generous offer made William's eyes sting for a moment and Milton cleared his throat while Tommy wriggled down from his knee to give her a proper hug - one that was returned this time.

0o0o0

Simon grinned at the tired face on the other side of the door and stepped in when Jim moved away. Blair had called and asked his boss to check on his detective after Jim lost his temper with the noise coming from across the hall. Blair had taken his niece and son to the park for the day, but hadn't wanted to leave his Sentinel entirely alone.

"It seems quiet enough now," Simon gestured to the door of apartment 306, which was closed. Jim pulled a face and sank onto his couch.

"It is, now," he grumbled, "Now that I'm not trying to sleep through the day so I can take night shift."

"C'mon Jim," Simon chided, "How much noise can a couple of removals men make?"

"It's not the removals, it's the electricians and the phone company and whoever was installing the speakers for the sound system - and let me tell you they were huge, not to mention the smaller one that seems to have been wired up right next to the front door. Blair took the kids and got the hell out when they started testing them because I was about to blow a gasket," Jim grumbled, "I tell you, the first time they fire that up I'll be over there with my badge."

"Good thing the night shift is over," Simon commiserated, "Have you met the new neighbours?"

Jim shook his head and slumped further. He really did look exhausted, unshaven and in rumpled sweats. Simon nodded and got up off the loveseat. He pushed his detective over onto his side and lifted his feet onto the couch. The very fact that Jim simply sighed and closed his eyes spoke for itself. Simon grinned and left his best detective to sleep in peace, letting himself out of the loft.

He bumped into the woman standing in the hall as he eased back from the door. She wore jeans and a long sleeved T-shirt. Her long brown hair was tucked back behind her ears and her feet were bare. She was built like a runner - slender and graceful, yet sturdy. Simon felt a pang of attraction.

"Hi," he smiled, "I'm Simon Banks, a friend of Jim and Blair's. You must be the new neighbour."

She smiled at him hesitantly and stepped around him to slide the note under the door. Simon frowned - he hated to be ignored - but she reached out a hand and tugged him over to her own door. Reaching in, she pulled out an infrared keyboard and tapped a few keys quickly. A speaker hummed to life.

"Hi, I'm Moira. I can not hear you or speak to you," it said in a cold voice.

Simon managed not to gape in astonishment.

"Nice system," Simon said almost at random, and she shrugged, tapping at the keyboard again.

"Necessary if I want to communicate with callers. Nice to meet you Simon."

She smiled and stepped inside, closing the door gently.

0o0o0

"It must have taken a lot of courage to do that," Blair puffed as he pushed the swing Tommy was sitting on. Simon had joined them in the park after meeting the new neighbour. Now he stood next to his consultant and pushed Clare Ellison in her swing while Tommy giggled and shrieked in his.

"Imagine it, not being able to communicate with another person without a synthesizer or a translator," Blair shook his head, "My deaf students always had to work that little bit harder, you know?"

"Do you speak sign language?" Simon asked, "I mean, sign it. I know Jim does - he translated for this deaf victim once, said he'd learnt it for his bachelors in college."

"Yeah, I do. I used to make extra money by translating on campus, especially during the oral exams," Blair nodded, "And my classes used to attract hearing impaired students because I could sign and lecture at the same time. Anthropology was one of those courses that fit into a lot of other study requirements, you know?"

"It's not like that would be hard, you talk with your hands anyway," Simon grinned and Blair laughed.

"Stop Da!" Tommy called and Blair slowed and then stopped the swing. Tommy got off and grinned at his father.

"Your turn!" he announced and Blair shook his head. They were at the smaller swing set, designed with seat belts for babies to ride in safely. Tommy still fit into them, which was why Blair had chosen this park.

"I won't fit on this one, sweetie!" he laughed, "These are special swings for kids only. How about an ice-cream instead?"

"Yeah!" Tommy clapped and waited until Simon had stopped Clare's swing and lifted her out, "Ice cream Clare!"

Simon put Clare down and Tommy took her by the hand, leading her off towards the vendor with Blair and Simon walking behind. Simon grinned at the proprietary interest Tommy showed in Clare - talking to her and guiding her along the path gently.

"Could you teach me to sign?" Simon glanced over at the proud father beside him; "It's a skill I should probably have learnt ages ago."

"Sure Simon," Blair smiled and wondered what the new neighbour looked like, "We can start whenever you like."

They bought the ice cream and sat on the grass to eat it, enjoying the last of summer. Tommy told Simon all about sending an email to his Grandfather in New York - how he'd typed it himself with Da's help and then sent it.

"Has Grandfather written back?" Simon asked, glancing at Blair's anxious face. If this effort to reach out went unacknowledged it would undo all the good foundation work the visit to New York with William had laid. None of the 'Cascade family' was too impressed with the Miltons so far and any rejection would be taken seriously.

"Not yet, but he will," Tommy seemed unconcerned and Simon smiled for him. Clare managed to smear ice-cream all over her uncle, making everyone laugh and Blair wiped up as best he could with the tissues from his pocket.

"C'mon guys," he sighed, "I'll have to go home to clean up. If we're super quiet Jim won't even know we were there."

Tommy left the park reluctantly, shooting a cross look at Clare, who was babbling merrily in Simon's arms. Blair swung his son up for a piggyback ride and rolled his eyes at Simon. The occasional flash of jealousy was to be expected, and was thankfully a rare occurrence.

"We can visit our new neighbour!" Tommy suggested as they walked along the corridor to 305. The little boy had been fascinated by all the comings and goings, sitting in the open doorway to watch until Jim had come home exhausted.

"Maybe later," Blair whispered, "Shhh now."

They tiptoed into Blair's half of the loft and the father hurried into the bathroom for a moment, emerging damp and shirtless. He tossed a wash cloth to Simon who quickly tidied up Clare and Tommy while Blair jogged lightly upstairs and grabbed a fresh shirt before trotting back down and ushering everyone out.

Tommy handed the note that he'd found under their door to Blair, who flipped it open and scanned briefly. Simon recognized it as a copy of the one slipped under Jim's door.

Blair smiled, stuck the note in his pocket and looked down at Tommy.

"Do you still want to say hello?" he asked his son, who nodded eagerly. Blair nodded back and hunkered down to be at eye level, "Our neighbour is a little different, Tommy. She can't speak to us, and she can't hear us. She talks by using her hands to make words. Da and Uncle Jim can talk that way too, and I'll have to tell you what she says until you've learnt to sign too, ok?"

"Ok," Tommy nodded, accepting the idea with an open mind. Simon grinned, nothing seemed to phase the little boy who already spoke at least four different languages - Latin included.

"I'm going to learn too, Tommy," Simon spoke up, "Your Da is going to teach me as well."

That earned him a delighted smile and a hug from the little boy while Blair straightened up and rang the doorbell that had been installed by the electricians. There was no noise inside the apartment and Tommy frowned.

"It didn't work," he told his father who grinned.

"It probably makes a light flash inside. Our new neighbour can't hear us, remember?"

Before Tommy could respond to that the door opened and Moira looked out at them. Blair grinned and held up his hands.

//Hi// he spoke and signed at the same time //I'm Blair Sandburg, your neighbour in 305//

Moira's face lit up as she smiled back at them. Simon grinned in sympathy. Being cut off from the world like that must make meeting new people for the first time very hard, though she'd shown no embarrassment at using the synthesizer earlier to talk to him.

//I'm Moira Hill, pleased to meet you// she replied, Blair's voice speaking as her hands moved //I met your friend when I was putting the notes under the door to 307//

//That's Jim Ellison's apartment - my brother. This is his daughter Clare and my son Tommy. Simon is our boss at the PD//

"Hi," Tommy piped up and she grinned, reaching out a hand for a low five, which the little boy slapped happily.

//You're cops// she asked curiously and Simon nodded at her.

"We work Major Crimes," he confirmed, "Jim and Sandburg are my best team. You'll probably see a lot of us, we're in and out all the time."

//You live here too// Moira grinned at Simon who laughed.

"Might as well," he shook his head, "The amount of time I spend babysitting."

"Daryl's my babysitter, Uncle Simon," Tommy protested and Simon grinned down at his nephew.

"Yep," he agreed, "But I was talking about baby sitting your Da."

That got him a laugh from Tommy and a grin from Moira.

//Shhh, Uncle Jim's trying to sleep// Blair cautioned, choosing to ignore the slur for now. Revenge was a dish best served cold.

//Oh man, I knew we were too noisy// Moira sighed//Sorry about that. We had to rewire so the fire and smoke alarms would be audible as well as visual, not to mention changing over a lot of other things//

"Why would they need to be audible?" Simon asked without thinking and then blushed. Moira grinned over at him. Her hands sketched the reply easily.

//If I'm not home my neighbours need the warning//

"Sorry," Simon apologized and Moira dismissed it with a wave of her hand.

//Don't be. It's not something most people think about. How often have you had to consider safety precautions for the deaf//

"Good point," Simon smiled and she smiled back. The door to 307 opened and a rumpled Jim emerged. Three hours of sleep had made him a bit more human and less likely to growl.

"What's going on?" he asked, scrubbing a hand across his face. Blair introduced Moira and Jim signed his hello before taking an insistent Clare from Simon.

0o0o0

The reception area of the school was crowded with parents. Blair spotted Hugh Solange and hurried over, choosing not to try and elbow his way through to the front desk and demand to see the principal as five other parents were doing. The big Scotsman acknowledged him with a tense nod. Tommy and Miki were in kindergarten together and very proud to be learning new things every day.

"Hugh?" Blair's voice was as tense as his body; "Do you know what's going on?"

"Just what you do - it looks like they've called in the parents of the entire class," Hugh gestured around, "They haven't said anything else and Principal Schnieder hasn't come out of her office yet - if she's even in there."

Blair looked at the yelling adults and worried faces and chewed on his lip. He'd been in a meeting with Robbery when the call came through from the school. Blair had driven at top speed, worried despite the secretary's assurances that Tommy was unhurt. Now his imagination raced, wondering what could be so bad that everyone's parents had been called in.

"Principal Schnieder!" someone shouted and the matronly woman was surrounded in seconds, as anxious parents demanded an answer to their questions.

"Please!" she raised her voice and her hands, "Calm down! No one is hurt, but we do have a problem! If you'll all just settle down and come into the staff room we can discuss this!"

The parents moved swiftly, settling into chairs and leaning against the walls and counters in the small staff room. This school offered an excellent extension program for gifted and talented children, which was why Tommy was here. Blair was beginning to wonder if he shouldn't have gone with a more exclusive place - he certainly had the funds for it. Tommy would have made new friends, though he'd be disappointed to be separated from Miki. In the end his son's happiness and the school's atmosphere won out. Blair hoped he hadn't made a huge mistake.

"All right now," Schnieder stood at the top of the staff room and looked around, "I want to emphasize that no one has been hurt, and no criminal activity has taken place. Your children are quite safe. However, there was an incident at lunchtime that has us all a little … concerned."

"Quit covering your ass and just tell us," someone growled and Blair glared around.

"Hey!" he said sharply, "There's no need for abuse. Just settle down!"

There was a chastised silence - that tone could pull forty erring freshmen into line at the drop of a hat. Schnieder nodded her thanks to Blair and took a deep breath.

"It seems that during lunch your children took it upon themselves to show solidarity for little Sally West. As you know, Sally is recovering from the chemotherapy that is being used to combat her leukaemia," Schnieder saw understanding dawn on one or two faces and was relieved when Blair Sandburg chuckled in amusement.

"They've cut their hair?" he guessed and she nodded in reply. There was a storm of groans and sighs as the various parents caught up with Blair. Sally had lost all her hair due to the chemo. and her classmates had held a hat party for her - everyone wore a hat to show that it was ok for her to be different.

"Why on earth would they do that?" someone groaned.

"They didn't just cut it off," Schnieder confessed, "They somehow managed to get their hands on a varied collection of disposable razors - I suggest you check at home - and shaved their heads. No one was hurt, they didn't even nick themselves."

"What do the wee bairns say? Why did they do it?" Hugh rumbled and Blair waited eagerly for the answer.

"Apparently, some of the older children teased Sally about her baldness. We were working on the problem, but not fast enough I guess," the harassed woman sighed, "If you'll come with me, we can go to their classroom now."

Blair grinned at the anxious faces and sea of bald heads that greeted the parents as they entered the brightly decorated classroom. He walked to his son and pulled Tommy up onto his hip, cuddling him close. His newly shaven son wrapped his arms and legs around him and buried his face in Blair's neck.

"I'm sorry Da," Tommy mumbled into his neck, "Don't be mad."

"I'm not mad, but why didn't you let your teachers deal with the problem?" Blair kissed the nude skull and made a note to buy some sunscreen for his son on the way home.

"Because the big kids said they'd just pick on us too if we told again. So I thought if we all looked the same they wouldn't be able to pick on us, and Miki agreed. Susan thought of the scissors from here and some of the other kids brought in razors to shave like you do in the shower. We were really careful, I promise!"

Blair could see that - there wasn't a shaving cut among them, even though they'd probably never held a razor before.

"We didn't make anyone do it - it was just going to be a few of us, but then everyone said they'd do it," a few tears soaked Blair's collar and he rubbed soothing circles on his son's back. Miki was in Hugh's lap and the other man met Blair's eyes with pride.

Their children had stuck up for a classmate who couldn't help being different. They'd stood up against an injustice as peacefully as they knew how.

"Next time," Blair raised his voice so all the kids could hear him, "Next time you need to tell us first, ok? We might have a better way than shaving your heads."

"I promise, Da," Tommy nodded, without taking his head from Blair's neck. Blair heard the affirmative responses from the other children and sighed.

It was decided that the kindergarten class would be dismissed for the day. Blair loaded his son into the Subaru and headed back to the PD. He'd promised to let the team from Robbery know what was happening and by now Major Crimes would also have heard about the summons.

Tommy held tight to his father's hand, but held his head high as they walked through the car park and into the lift. One or two of the cops stared, but no one said anything. If they laughed, neither Blair nor his son could hear it. The men and women in Robbery also stared, but didn't say anything as Blair led Tommy into the captain's office to collect the files he'd need to catch up on the rest of the meeting he'd left.

The men and women of Major Crimes weren't half as restrained. Jim swooped on his nephew, exclaiming in horror and cuddling him close. From the tightness of his jaw, the detective was about to go postal on whoever had allowed this to happen and the person who'd actually done it too.

"He's all right," Blair's voice overrode the exclamations, "Tommy's whole class decided to shave their heads at lunch today. One of his classmates has lost her hair to chemo and they wanted to stop her from being teased about it."

There was a stunned silence and then Jim started to laugh. Sandburg's Activist Genes were apparently hereditary too. And there was no mistaking the pride in Blair's voice.

0o0o0

Simon smiled at the beautiful woman on his arm and led her down the staircase to the ballroom. In the months since Moira had moved into the apartment across the hall from Jim and Blair they had formed a close attachment.

Moira was a runner and Blair had started taking his morning run with her after he'd noticed her treadmill by the window. The young athlete was uncomfortable running by herself - her deafness left her too vulnerable to muggers and stupid motorists. Simon had joined them when he was complaining about how crowded his gym was becoming - using the time saved at the gym to learn more sign language so he could talk to Moira.

The two of them had become closer when the PD contracted Moira to revamp their entire IT system - which was what she did for a living, programming and designing software and security for various clients. Simon had volunteered his unit for the trial runs. Late night meetings had adjourned to restaurants or strolls through some of Cascades finer tourist attractions.

Moira had proven herself to be funny and smart. She also got along with Daryl well - to the point that the teen had pulled his father aside and advised him to 'go for it'. Simon had realized that his son had finally given up the wistful dream that his parents would one day reunite. The child was rapidly becoming a man.

The advent of the annual Police Ball had given Simon an excuse to dress up, hire a limo and take his lady out in style. He towered over her in height and build, but her personality and determination negated the difference easily. She'd chosen a simple midnight blue slip gown made of heavy velvet that swirled around her long legs as she walked and a silver shawl to combat the winter chill. Simon looked sharp in his tux with a cummerbund to match her dress and a button cap in place of a tie.

//Would you like to dance// Simon asked as they reached the edge of the dance floor. She smiled up at him, a faint glimmer of mischief in her eyes.

//I can't hear the music// she reminded him//I guess if you hum along though, I can press myself to your chest and feel the vibrations//

//Sounds like a plan to me// Simon liked the way her mind worked. She slipped into his arms and they swayed out onto the floor. A tap on his chest reminded him he wasn't living up to the bargain and Simon hummed along to the waltz obligingly. Moira snuggled closer and sighed happily, following where Simon led easily.

Jim and Blair grinned at their neighbour and friend as the two swayed past, wrapped in their own world.

"He really loves her," Jim said quietly, "I've never seen him click so quickly with another person."

"She's a real special lady, Jim. Intelligent, independent and a match for Simon's wit any day," Blair agreed. He and his brother had come to the ball stag, neither one of them was dating at the moment. Joel and his wife danced by, and Henri and his lady were standing by the edge of the dance floor too. Megan and Brian had arrived together, sparking wild speculation amongst the rest of Major Crimes and a few other departments besides.

"So are you going to find a lady to dance with?" Blair grinned up at his friend, "Or would you like to check out the buffet?"

"Buffet," the Sentinel grinned, "I can smell it from here and it smells good."

0o0o0

Daryl smiled hesitantly at Naomi Sandburg and stepped aside to let her in. Dressed like her son in layers of flannel and jeans, the petite redhead was an unexpected visitor to the loft.

"I'm Daryl," he introduced himself and she offered him a dazzling smile. Unsure of what Blair would want in this situation, Daryl fidgeted nervously.

"Captain Banks' son," she nodded, "I take it that Blair isn't here?"

"He went out for a couple of hours," Daryl closed the door, "He'll be back soon."

"Is Tommy still up?" Naomi looked around at her son's darkened apartment and then over at Daryl. He nodded and indicated the corridor to Jim's apartment. Tommy and Daryl had been watching a movie together while Clare slept. Naomi smiled again and walked through. Tommy was just hanging up the phone when she stepped into view and he put his hands at his side. His very short hair gave her a moment's pause, but she chose not to say anything.

"Hello, Tommy," Naomi walked over and gave him a hug, which Tommy returned politely. He had never gotten to know Nana because she was always away. Hugs were the traditional greeting in his family and therefore Nana got one.

"Who were you on the phone to?" Naomi asked, taking her grandson by the hand and walking them both over to the couch to sit down. Daryl shadowed them and plunked down on the loveseat, his hands fisted in his pockets.

"Da," Tommy replied honestly, "He's on his way home, Nana. He wants to see you."

"That's nice, sweetie. I want to see him too," Naomi looked at the muted television, "Were you watching a movie?"

"Yep," Tommy nodded, "Toy Story. Did you know they made it on a computer? Auntie Moira makes things on computers too. She's deaf and can't talk so we talk to her with our hands."

Unwilling to make the same mistake twice, Naomi didn't challenge her grandson's ownership of Auntie Moira.

"Shall we finish the movie while we wait for your daddy?" Naomi suggested and Tommy frowned.

"Uncle Jim's not coming, Nana, just Da," he corrected her, "Daryl, can we finish it?"

"Sure, Tommy," Daryl leaned forward for the remote.

"Just a minute," Naomi said sharply, "Why did you think I was talking about Uncle Jim, Tommy?"

Tommy looked puzzled for a moment, then his face cleared. Nana had been away when Clare was born.

"Oh! You don't know about Clare! She's my cousin. Uncle Jim is her Daddy. She's just a baby, so that's why we have to sit in here - in case she wakes up. Do you want a peek?" he was up off the couch and tugging Naomi's hand before she could reply, leading the way to Blair's former room. Clare slept in her cot, curled up in a little ball. Naomi's face softened at the sight and she let Tommy pull her away again quietly.

They sat on the couch to watch the rest of the video. Blair arrived just at the end and scooped his son up to sit on the couch too and watch the toys listen to the presents being opened. Daryl relaxed - with Blair home he didn't have to worry that Naomi would try something that he couldn't handle.

With the end of the video, Blair announced that it was bedtime for Tommy. The little boy put the video away and then hugged Daryl goodnight. Naomi watched her son pick up his child and smiled politely at Daryl before following father and son next door.

0o0o0

Jim snuck into his own house and grinned at the sleeping teen on his couch. Daryl was spending the night with them, to be picked up by Simon in the morning when his boss dropped Moira home.

A Sentinel sweep of the loft revealed that Naomi was asleep in Blair's room next door and his Guide was on the couch. Clare was also sleeping peacefully in her cot, though Jim checked her visually as well, stroking her soft hair and smiling at her when she sighed in her sleep.

Blair had insisted that he stay at the dance - as much to allow mother and son some privacy as to let Daryl feel that his services were still needed. Jim stood at the opening of the corridor and extended his senses deliberately, fixing them firmly on his Guide. At first he just wallowed in the sensation of the other man's living, breathing presence, then he paid attention to what his senses were telling him. Blair was awake, though he was lying still. Jim reached back and turned the light on, dialling his sight down quickly to avoid being blinded by the light.

After a few minutes Blair emerged into the light and grinned at his friend.

"Everything ok?" Jim asked, though he knew that Blair wouldn't be grinning like that if there was a problem. Blair nodded and gestured to the couch. Both men chose the love seat; Blair perched on the arm with his feet pressed against Jim's thigh. The Sentinel loosened his tie and leaned his head against the back of the couch to peer at his friend.

"Well?" he prompted with a smile.

"She says that she's not prepared to be excluded from her own family and will therefore … tolerate Tommy's adoption of the rest of you," Blair shook his head in frustration; "I argued that I had adopted you all as well and you guys had adopted me, but she couldn't get into that without raising her voice. Saw it as a criticism of her parenting style. She'll be here for a little while to spend time with Tommy and then go back to her travels."

"Are you ok with that?" Jim asked curiously, vigorously repressing his reaction to Naomi's wilful blindness. Blair shrugged and sighed. His voice was a bare thread of sound to avoid waking Clare - whose Sentinel hearing had kicked in with a vengeance at the same time as her first tooth. Jim's voice was perforce a little louder.

"She's my mom," Blair sighed, "I love her, and I want my son to know her. I'll have a chance to do this if I can…overlook her tendency to be so damn territorial."

"Where does that come from, do you think?" Jim mused, and Blair's toes massaged his thigh unconsciously.

"She was a part of a very large family. They're a little scattered, so they were very…intense when they got together. I remember getting told off by my uncle one time for playing with kids outside the family instead of my cousins," Blair chuckled, "I told him that if he'd get them to stop teasing me I'd play with them. You should have heard the row!"

"So family is very close knit for Naomi," Jim mused, "And Tommy too - look at the way he went off when she tried to tell him I wasn't his uncle!"

"That's a little different Jim. He'd just had his mother taken away and I took away his Grandparents. He was in a strange town and still very dependent on the both of us. A year wasn't long enough to overcome all that trauma. He's better now - though I warned her not to try to pull us apart."

"Hmm," Jim sighed, "So what's on the plan for tomorrow? Still coming to the recovery barbecue?"

"Sure we are," Blair got up, "We promised the uncles and aunts and cousins we'd be there. And Tommy is dying to show Joel how he can throw a football."

"Yeah," Jim got up too and Blair pulled him in for a brief hug before waving goodnight and heading back to his couch.

'Still got some issues, huh Chief,' Jim mused and went up to bed, determined to help out as much as he could in the coming days.

0o0o0

Tommy opened his eyes and peered at the watch that had been a birthday present from Da. Da had explained that it was a special watch - designed especially for people who were learning to tell the time. Tommy had already learnt o'clock and half past. It was half past five now - morning already.

Tommy scooted out of bed and put on his slippers and robe before sneaking into the corridor and next door to Clare's room. A peep at the tree in the corner revealed a lot of bright packages. Clare sat up the moment the door opened and her face lit up in a welcoming grin. Tommy held a finger up to caution her to silence and then unlatched the side of the crib. With the side down, she climbed over the edge eagerly, with Tommy struggling to balance her safely to the ground. She landed with a thump and they both froze, looking up at the ceiling cautiously.

There was no sound from above and after a moment Clare turned her head to smile at Tommy. The boy smiled back and fetched her robe and slippers, putting them on her and then leading her back to his own kitchen.

They couldn't stay in Uncle Jim's kitchen because his hearing was better than Clare's was. Da would at least sleep through a little noise.

Tommy glanced at the menorah in the window and grinned. Da and Uncle Jim had decided to decorate Uncle Jim's half of the house this year and Tommy and Da's half next year. He had to agree that it was fair that they take turns, although he wasn't certain that making him arm wrestle Uncle Jim to decide who goes first was fair at all.

At the time Da had been laughing too hard to help.

In a whisper, Tommy cautioned Clare against turning anything on without him and then started setting the table. The baby was able to walk back and forth from the kitchen with single items. Tommy tried to choose things for her to carry that wouldn't break if they were dropped, because he loved her too much to risk seeing her hurt.

Once the table was set Tommy helped Clare to stand on his stool and together they started making toast. Tommy whispered all the cautions his father used to his assistant, much to her amusement. Clare was allowed to hold Tommy's hand on the knife as he expertly buttered the toast. She could barely see over the counter, but was insistent that she contribute, and Tommy knew that an argument would wake Da. Better to just give in and let her help as much as she could than risk spoiling the surprise.

When he figured they had enough toast for everyone Tommy carried - with Clare's 'assistance' - the plate to the table and put it up on top. Someone clapped and both children jumped, whirling to face the sound.

Uncle Jim stood in the corridor with a video camera - Da's birthday present to him this year - and clapped with one hand while the other pointed the camera at the children. He was wearing the robe Tommy had picked for his birthday as a joint present from him and Clare and the dinosaur feet slippers that Tommy's uncles at the PD had given him.

"But Clare didn't hear you!" Tommy protested and Uncle Jim grinned. He put the camera down and picked both children up for a good morning hug.

"I had the sleep noise on in her room last night," Uncle Jim told the nascent Guide, "She can't hear past that. We didn't want Santa to wake her up!"

Tommy knew the sleep noise was necessary if Clare was to get to sleep. When her teeth were coming in she heard things from all over. Da called it by a funny name, but basically it meant that Clare wouldn't be bothered by outside noises. Uncle Jim had to learn to hear around it - because it affected his hearing too. When Clare was grown up they'd teach her how to do that too.

"Do I smell breakfast?" Da called from the top of his stairs. Tommy wriggled like an eel to get down and hurried to meet him, snuggling into his Da's neck like always and luxuriating in the loving contact.

"Merry Christmas sweetie," Blair nuzzled into the riotous curls and accepted a kiss with grave aplomb.

"Merry Christmas Da," Tommy replied and Da walked over to Uncle Jim. Clare got a kiss too, then the family made a 'kiddie sandwich' hug before settling down to the toast on the table. At the adult's insistence they all ate some scrambled eggs and bacon rashers as well to supplement the toast, which Uncle Jim made while Da read a story about a Grinch.

Tommy and Clare watched as the adults cleaned up the kitchen and then everyone went next door to look at the tree. It had been exciting to put the tree together. First they'd had to go down to storage to pull it out and then Da and Uncle Jim had put the plastic tree together. Then they'd opened the box of ornaments and Tommy and Clare had chosen which ornaments went where on the tree.

Uncle Jim had added lights over the ornaments while Tommy and Da made a string of popcorn and Clare had napped on the rug. Once the popcorn had been added to the tree they'd had dinner and then Uncle Jim had turned the tree lights on. Both children had laughed and clapped in excitement at the pretty sight.

Uncle Jim and Da both sat on the floor and plunked their children down between their legs in the Chopec fashion. Tommy and Clare snuggled back happily, enjoying the sense of security they got from sitting in their fathers' embrace.

"Shall we open our presents?" Blair nuzzled into Tommy's hair and his son turned shining eyes on him. The novelty of giving someone a present hadn't dimmed for the little boy - his generous nature delighted in making someone else happy.

"Yes please!" Tommy bounced. Blair laughed and looked over at Jim.

"Pass Clare over then, Jim, and get to it," he instructed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Jim immediately protested.

"Why me? Pass Tommy over Chief, and get to it!" he replied and watched his brother shake his head solemnly.

"You're the host," he was told firmly, "You can't weasel out of it now. The person who has the tree hands out the presents."

"It's a house rule," Tommy added firmly and Jim caved, laughing and passing Clare over to Blair who settled her next to Tommy, reflecting that daily meditation and yoga had been worth it as he split his legs further apart to accommodate her.

Then all thoughts ceased as the presents were given and unwrapped amid laughter and hugs.

0o0o0

Simon took a deep breath and glanced nervously at Moira and Daryl.

//You can't be scared// Moira jeered at him, the look in her eyes softening the words.

//Are you kidding? In that apartment are the weirdest people I know// Simon replied with a grin and Daryl rolled his eyes before reaching around his father to knock.

//All things considered that doesn't say much// Daryl told his father with a cheeky grin and ducked as Simon growled and cuffed his shoulder lightly. Moira was laughing in her silent fashion as the door opened and Blair let them in.

//I sense abuse// Blair grinned and hugged her happily //Merry Christmas everyone. Did you score large Daryl?//

//Best year ever// Daryl said eagerly and Blair looked over Simon and Moira carefully. He caught sight of the ring straight away.

//Simon! You proposed?// Blair blurted //Moira, you accepted?//

//Yes// Moira replied and was pulled in for another hug. Simon was next, then Daryl as the Ellison clan was told the good news and congratulations were offered.

//I'm going to be best man// Daryl boasted to Jim, who grinned and put a hand on the teens shoulder for a moment.

//Who better to do it than you Daryl// the Sentinel praised before being summoned to the kitchen to help find drinks for everyone.

Glancing out at the noisy people in his loft Jim reflected how far he'd come the last few years. From a lonely man terrified he was going insane to a family man, celebrating his friends' engagement. His father and brother were again a part of his life, and they were friends as well as family. He had a baby girl that just got more special with each day. And her natural abilities would be nurtured and cherished by the people around her, not suppressed and feared.

Jim took a deep breath and looked over at the man who had led him so far and smiled. His soul mate's hands were flying as he spoke to the father who had adopted him into his family. Whatever they were discussing, William was fascinated, his face alight with curiosity and humour.

Blair glanced up, his eyes finding Jim's unerringly. The special smile that was reserved for the Sentinel lit up his entire face and Jim nodded solemnly, acknowledging the promise of forever he saw in those deep blue eyes.

end


	8. Fast Forward

Fast Forward

by Shedoc

Jim cursed under his breath as he swerved around some civil servant on the way back to the office after a long lunch and considered just hitting the lights and siren. Simon was mad he'd been called away from a meeting over a case they were working with Vice, and Blair had been nowhere to be found in the precinct, so things could hardly get worse if he was reprimanded by the Chief. It was so rare for the school to call him that he'd hit the Sentinel-protecting-his-young button and gone into overdrive when the lunchtime traffic had held him up. Clare had only been in school for a year - his blond haired blue eyed daughter had loved it, as much as Tommy did, though she wasn't as advanced as her 'big brother'. Only this morning Jim had braided her hair into pigtails while listening to her read her primer and helped her when she stumbled. He could clearly remember the feel of her soft hair as it slid through his fingers and the bright jumper she'd chosen to wear with her overalls. She had tied her shoes herself, smiling up at him in accomplishment - it was a new skill and one she and Tommy had worked hard on together as a surprise - and kissed him goodbye.

She'd gone walking out holding Blair's hand and chatting to Tommy who was also holding hands on her uncle's other side.

The sound of her chatter had clung to his ears until they were out of range - about ten blocks away. Blair had told Jim to stop listening under his breath, and the Sentinel had been so shocked his hearing had snapped back to normal levels automatically. He'd made a note to ask Blair how he knew Jim was still listening and then locked up both lofts and gone to work.

Jim pulled up in front of the school, parking illegally, but flipping the truck's id so it would be visible. He ran along the front path and up the steps to the office, stuffing his keys in his pocket and trying not to panic. His senses weren't reliable enough at the moment to look for Clare without risking a zone - his emotions were too high. The receptionist looked up at his hurried entry and immediately picked up the phone, calling the Principal and smiling at Jim while she spoke.

Principal Wilson emerged from his office and beckoned Jim in. For a moment Jim wished he had ignored Blair's advice to split Tommy and Clare up to let them develop friends outside of the Sentinel/Guide bond - he sure could have used the reassurance that Tommy was here to watch over Clare.

"She's not hurt, Detective," Wilson said first, reassuring Jim as best he could. Despite the fact that he'd said it on the phone, most parents tended to err on the side of overreaction when their children were concerned.

"What's happened then?" Jim asked tensely, perching on the chair he was offered, "Just give me the facts."

Wilson sighed a little. He was a very thin man, balding like Jim but not as well built. Despite his wrinkled suit and general air of disarray, Wilson was an accurate and well-liked administrator. Clare thought he was funny, and often spoke of Principal Wilson at the dinner table.

"The fish tank in Clare's classroom was knocked over during lunch time. School rules forbid students entering the building without supervision…"

"She knocked over the fish tank?" Jim butted in, bewildered, "Why?"

"No, Clare didn't knock it over," Wilson corrected quickly, "She says she saw another student do it."

"She was there?" Jim frowned, trying to figure out the problem. Clare didn't lie - Blair valued the truth very highly from his children and both kids knew that Jim would spot a lie literally in a heartbeat. If Clare had owned up to being in the room against rules, she would accept her punishment fairly. Why had Wilson said she was very upset?

"She approached a teacher on duty in the playground, and reported that she had just seen this student break the fish tank. Clare said she saw it from the jungle gym. That is on the other side of the playground, Detective. You can see the window of the year one classroom from there, but even I can't see inside from that distance, and I have twenty-twenty vision and the advantage of height on her. She will not retract her statement and has become quite distressed. The student she is accusing has never been in trouble before and vehemently denies the accusation," Wilson sighed, "I called you because we need to get to the bottom of this story. There must be some reason for her to target this student so strongly. She will of course, have to apologize to the boy for her lie - something she is refusing to do."

"Can I see her?" Jim's jaw was clenched and Wilson shot him a look before nodding. He picked up the phone and asked the school nurse to bring Clare to his office. Jim's hearing had picked up the muffled sobs of his daughter and his jaw had clenched even tighter. With a direction to work with he easily picked up the noises of his daughter's approach and he turned in the chair to face the door seconds before the nurse knocked and led Clare in. Her neat pigtails were now full of snags and bristles and her face was tear stained. She was sobbing in that overtired way children who have been crying for a very long time do, and her bright clothes only enhanced her unnatural pallor. Jim simply held out his arms and Clare launched herself into them.

"I saw it! I did!" she wailed into his neck and Jim kissed her rumpled hair, rocking them back and forth and stroking her taut body. She wormed closer, burrowing into his body and sobbing even harder, desperate that someone believes she was telling the truth.

"Hush baby, I know you did," Jim crooned, "Hush now."

"Mum-mum," Clare sobbed - her old name for him that Jim hadn't heard in years.

It made his heart seize for a moment and he glared at Wilson in anger. To upset a six-year-old so much she regressed to babyhood was not good enough. Jim had realized right away that Clare had probably used her Sentinel sight unconsciously to track the movement of her classmate. The problem was that the school didn't know she was a Sentinel and would automatically discount her words as a lie.

"Mum-mum's here, honey. It's all over now," Jim kissed her again and just let her cry herself out. Wilson fidgeted uncomfortably - he was a good man and hated to see any child this distraught, despite their behaviour. Exhausted by her emotions Clare slid into sleep and Jim bit back his anger.

"We'll deal with this tomorrow," Jim stared Wilson down, "My daughter needs to go home and rest. I suggest you talk to the student she accused again. My daughter has no reason to lie about this, and you have no call to dismiss her as a liar. I'll call tomorrow to make an appointment."

Jim slid off the chair; balancing Clare's limp weight easily and headed for the door. Her head lolled on his shoulder a little, and a pang of worry shifted through him. A surreptitious glance showed her eyes to be open and glazed - not asleep then, zoned and pretty deeply too. Jim swallowed a bolt of panic and hurried to the car, laying his daughter on the seat and belting her in before trying to bring her out of it.

There was no response to his touches, scent or voice, and Jim realized that she had probably zoned on one or all three of those. Digging out his phone, Jim ran to the other side of the truck and got in, hitting the speed dial for Blair and starting the truck with the other hand.

"Jim, I'm at home," Blair answered the phone on the first ring, "Bring her straight up to my room and I'll do what I can."

He hung up before Jim could reply, and the detective threw the phone onto the seat as he hit the siren and lights to get home faster.

0o0o0

Blair checked the tray; warm washcloths and extra blankets were all in easy reach, then climbed into his bed. He was wearing his oldest sweats - grey fabric that had worn so soft it felt quite gentle to his skin, and would generate extra heat for Clare. The young Sentinel often got colder when she zoned deeply, and Blair felt it was pretty bad. Jim wouldn't panic for a normal zone - he'd become quite proficient at Guiding his daughter. Tommy had a sure and gentle touch with her that often got the fastest results, but Blair was still the master. Both men were reluctant to involve Tommy in the more strenuous side of guiding a Sentinel. The constant vigilance that Blair maintained to pre-empt and divert potential problems and the burden of training and honing the skills of a Sentinel who didn't fully understand that she was one was beyond Tommy's skills.

Blair and Jim had agreed that the children's bond would develop naturally and they would both be encouraged to explore their world and roles at their own pace. Clare's senses had emerged fully by her third birthday, prompting Blair to make games out of some simple training exercises to teach her the elements of control. Her first major zone had happened mercifully at the loft and Tommy had been averting minor zones for months before hand. Jim had been held up as a role model, though Clare's natural coping techniques were still intact and Blair had simply encouraged those. With love and tolerance, Clare would never need to learn the artificial control techniques that Jim often had to consciously employ to make everyday life bearable.

Much like the adults' bond, the children had become instinctively aware of each other first. Unlike their bond, that instinct had been nurtured and accepted. One of the positives about guiding another bond was the two adults could see to it that their own mistakes were avoided. Unfortunately that allowed the children to make all new mistakes and their parents - like parents everywhere - had to scramble for solutions as best they could.

Blair heard the front door open and close and Jim's footsteps as he hurried up the stairs to his Guide. Blair peeled the covers back and held up his arms, accepting the limp bundle tenderly and wrapping her back in his blankets. First thing he did was release her hair from the plaits and card gentle fingers through it.

"Hello, Clare," Blair cooed, pressing his hands to her icy face. Jim ditched his jacket and shoes and then crawled onto the bed as well, placing the gun close to protect them all while the Shaman healed the fledgling Sentinel. Blair was aware that his Sentinel's instincts were running high and reached back to draw Jim's arm around them both. He didn't pause in his efforts to call his niece back as he shook out the extra blanket and slid it over Jim, feeling the anxious father relax just a notch in response.

"I know you're scared honey, but you need to listen to me now," Blair continued, "It's time to come home, little one. You're safe and loved, and it's all going to be just fine. Come on kitten, uncurl for me."

Clare sighed and blinked, wincing in pain. Blair snagged eye drops from the tray and applied them to dry eyes, then cleaned her face tenderly with a washcloth. Jim was pressing in close now; peering at Clare over his shoulder as Blair washed each hand too, and smoothed tendrils of hair back from her face. Clare's eyes blinked a few more times and then focused, gazing up into the deep blue ones that smiled at her lovingly.

"Hey there," Blair murmured, "You're ok."

Jim reached around to add his touch and Clare sighed, snuggling into her father's hand and her uncle's warmth.

"Want to tell me what happened?" Blair continued in the same warm murmur.

Clare's heart didn't even skip a beat as she recalled the afternoon's events and gazed up at the Shaman.

"I saw Peter Mallard tip the fish tank in our room. The teachers didn't believe me," she closed her eyes and snuggled in, "I wasn't lying though. I promise I saw him. Sentinel swear."

Jim had once made that promise to Tommy and now it was a family oath. There was no oath more serious or binding in the family than to Sentinel swear.

Accusations of lying were terribly serious in their household, much to Simon's amusement who knew what a pair of obfuscators Blair and Jim could be when it came to report writing, court appearances and general everyday life.

"I believe you," Jim's voice overlapped with Blair's and the detective felt the last of the tension in his daughter's frame ease away to nothing. Blair reached over to the tray again and plucked an orange from it, peeling it easily and giving Clare a segment to suck on. He passed one back to Jim and took one himself, sucking thoughtfully.

"I think I should take her out of school," Jim murmured in Blair's ear, burying his nose in long curls and stroking kinked blond hair. Blair shook his head.

"That won't solve the problem," he replied, "And her record will be marked with it. She doesn't need a notation saying 'saw something she couldn't have seen from that distance' on her files."

"I'm not telling her to lie," Jim growled, "Our children will have to deal with that all their adult life - we're not going to start her in grade school."

"She won't have to lie. Let's just leave it for now. I'll come in to school with you tomorrow and we'll deal with it then," the Shaman's voice was dreamy as he swallowed his piece of orange and gave out the next segments. Jim lifted his head enough to peer at his partner and frowned. Blair's eyes were unfocussed and his respiration was down too. He had the look that Jim had learnt to associate with Andarko and Peru.

Sighing, Jim put his face back in the long curls and let his Guide's scent carry away the last of his tension and stress. If Andarko was here, then something was stirring on the spirit planes and Jim would just have to trust that the Shaman would guide them safely as always.

The front door opened and Jim hitched up enough to watch Tommy and his Poppy enter. Tommy glanced up to his Da's room straight away and headed for his own room to put away his school bag and remove his shoes before walking upstairs. A glance beckoned William Ellison to accompany him, and Jim smiled at his father as the older man topped the stairs.

"Thank you for fetching Tommy, Dad," Jim said and William smiled over at his adopted grandson.

"Always a pleasure," he waved it away. Blair's hand rose to offer him a segment from the second orange and William sat on the foot of the bed a little uncomfortably. The last few years had been difficult for the older man as Jim and Blair raised their baby Sentinel to use her gifts naturally and easily - unflinchingly accepting her special abilities as normal. William had winced more than once as his memories rose up to spite his reactions to his eldest son.

He watched the two Guides soothe and comfort the two Sentinels, sharing the orange with each other and stroking arms or backs lightly. William came in for his fair share of the orange and was appealed to in conversation as Tommy told the family about his day at school and Blair told them about his lunch at work.

By the time they were done Jim and Clare were asleep in each other's arms. Tommy and Blair made sure father and daughter were covered warmly and then led the way downstairs.

"They'll sleep until tomorrow now," Blair reassured William. He glanced up at the loft and then nodded.

"Stay for tea, Poppy?" Tommy asked now, and William grinned at him. Tommy had grown rapidly, and was at the thin, gangly pre-pubescent stage. With his short curls rioting off his head and his clothes smudged from school and the playground he had lost none of the appeal of his baby years.

"That depends on what's on the menu," William teased and got a roll of the eyes in response. Tommy turned to his father, who laughed softly and patted his son on the shoulder.

"We'll make pasta and bolognaise sauce," he told the boy, "Get out the ingredients while I tell Poppy what happened. And you can fill the kettle and set it on the stove. I'll light it when we get back."

Smiling at the pride shining from his son's eyes, the Shaman of the Great City led William to the corridor between the two apartments and spoke quietly.

0o0o0

Jim and Blair walked into the school with Clare positioned between them protectively. The Guides had woken their Sentinels at the usual time and Tommy had reluctantly gone off to school. He'd protested that Clare was his special Sentinel and he should come along to take care of her, but Blair had managed to explain to his son that it was better to let the adults handle it this time.

Clare had sat at Blair's table and worked on some writing exercises he'd roughed out for her to do. Jim made a lunchtime appointment with Wilson and then called Simon as well - only to find that Blair had organized a day off for them both yesterday before leaving the station. This was not the first time Blair had anticipated their needs perfectly, and Jim filed the incident away in his memory - he had a feeling something significant was happening to his Shaman and Guide. Wilson was wearing a tie with yellow smiley faces today, and he showed all three of them to a chair amicably. Clare sat absolutely still as the confidence she'd gained in her morning at home with her father and uncle ebbed away under the influence of the school. Jim reached a hand to rest it on the back of her chair - one of the not-touching gestures he often used with Blair when he wanted to ground one of them.

Jim introduced his partner and explained that Blair was Clare's emergency contact and had come along at Jim's request.

"We owe you an apology, Clare," Wilson started the ball rolling, "You were absolutely correct. This morning Peter Mallard came in with his parents and confessed that he had been in the classroom and accidentally tipped the tank over. Apparently Clare's accusation was on his mind and he told his parents what he'd done straight away. He'll apologize for calling you a liar, Clare and replace the tank and fish. We feel that he's been punished enough for his role in this incident and there will be no further sanctions placed against him."

Clare let her head hang in relief and struggled to be a big girl for Daddy and not cry. Daddy plucked her out of her chair and cuddled her close anyway, while Uncle Blair leaned over to drop a kiss on her cheek.

"I'm glad the young man told the truth," Blair spoke for them all, "However, I would like to discuss your response to Clare's original statement."

"Mr. Sandburg," Wilson's smile was strained, "I realize that we were in error and apologize…"

Blair waved a hand, dismissing the apology as unimportant.

"When we enrolled Clare here, you were given a list of allergies and sensitivities that she has. I believe it's a part of her school file," Blair spoke easily, overriding Wilson's attempts to continue, "Her file clearly states that her vision is exceptionally acute - better than forty-twenty. We have had it tested, and I regularly check her sight and hearing myself."

"All I can do is apologize, Mr. Sandburg," Wilson's smile had become even more strained and Blair nodded, point made, leaning back and glancing over at his Sentinels. The matter would have to stand as it was for now. At the end of term Clare could be moved without incident to Tommy's school - he'd put her on the list weeks ago - and Tommy could watch out for her for the final years of grade school. Once he went to high school Clare would have enough practice at filtering out Sentinel reactions from normal ones.

Clearly their hopes that the young boy could be spared some of the burdens of Guiding a Sentinel was a vain one. Though hopefully Tommy wouldn't have to do much more than a normal big brother would.

Blair would bring it up with Jim on the weekend while the kids were distracted in the park. His partner would be happy their children were attending the same school and Clare - unlike her father - made friends fairly quickly. Blair waited out in the truck while Jim walked Clare to class, and then sat deep in thought for the drive to the station.

0o0o0

Swinging rapidly around the corner of the banister, Tommy barely broke stride as he hurdled the broken box that had been abandoned on the floor and tore along the dingy floor after the fleeing girl ahead of him. The light filtering from the haphazardly boarded windows was enough for the ten-year-old to see where he was going. Drawing a breath he shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Miki! Stop it!"

His best friend in the whole world skidded to a stop, wrenching uselessly at a jammed door, trying to get into the room beyond so she could hide. Tommy didn't bother to slow down, he simply tackled her hard, bringing them both crashing to the floor and squirming to get on top the way he'd seen Da do it one night when Uncle Jim had a severe reaction to something in his coffee and freaked out.

They'd had to handcuff Uncle Jim and call an ambulance - Miki struggled briefly and then went limp. She glared up at him before crumbling into sobs of pure mortification.

Tommy sighed and patted her face gently, easing off cautiously and struggling to regain his breath.

"What are you doing?" he asked in a reasonable voice, as if he hadn't just chased his best friend into a condemned building five blocks from the park where they were supposed to be playing. Miki curled up and sobbed harder. Tommy sighed and rubbed at her shoulder, sitting up and leaning against a crumbling wall. He waited patiently for his normally calm friend to regain control over herself and hoped Uncle Jim wouldn't be too worried when he couldn't see them straight away.

"Was it those other children?" Tommy asked when Miki pushed up to sit next to him, her face grubby and her clothes liberally smeared with the dirt from the floor.

"They said that I was dirty," she gulped, "That I was just a walking piece of dirt. Because of my colour. And that you only pretended to like me and they were going to come back and get me. And…my tummy hurts - it's been hurting all week and I feel awful and I just wanted to get away."

She leaned to the side a little and Tommy leaned into her, putting an arm around his best friend and clenching his jaw just like his uncle. True to his genes, Tommy hated injustice - he stood up to every playground bully he met, got in the face of anyone who was being unfair, spoke out when he thought it was needed. His Da had taught him how to do all that without arrogance or antagonism, showing his son how to be a truly proactive pacifist - one that worked to bring peace to his little corner of the universe. Uncle Jim had shown him how to defend himself if his opponent got physical, and Da had added a few tips for that too. They all 'danced' now. Once every week the floor was cleared and the three of them moved through the peaceful tai chi form. As soon as Clare was old enough to balance properly she had begun to learn too - mimicking their graceful movements at first, and then learning them properly.

"Well we won't solve our problems here," Tommy repeated his Da's words and smiled at his friend, glancing at his wrist watch, "June and Sam and Harry are meeting us at the park in…five minutes. I bet they can help us out. And does your mom know your tummy hurts?"

"No, I didn't tell her," Miki's lip trembled again, "She's busy with the new baby. What are we gonna do about those kids?"

Miki's parents had been very surprised to produce a new member of their family and had hurriedly reorganized their lives around the new addition. Miki had been happy to have a little sister - just like Tommy was the comment Blair had overheard - but had found the changes at home hard to adjust to after nine years of being the only child of the house.

"They called you dirty, right? So, lets make them dirty!" Tommy grinned at her sceptical face, "The fountain has been leaking - that flower bed opposite is full of water that's why all those plants are dying. You lead them there and we'll ambush them."

"Mud pies!" Miki laughed, and sniffed one last time. Tommy hugged her hard and got up, taking her hand when she stood again, totally unfazed by the gesture.

"Miki," his voice was very serious, "You know that I really do like you. You are my bestest friend in the entire world. I'd…I'd walk through dog poop for you!"

Miki nodded, reassured by the fierce vow and squeezed his hand.

"I'd walk through dog poop for you too. With no shoes on," she replied and then they both went 'ewww' and headed back towards the park and their friends and a date with mud pies.

0o0o0

Blair looked up in surprise as Jim and Clare ushered Tommy and Miki into the loft. The two very muddy children froze on command while a grinning Clare got newspaper for them to stand on while they peeled off their clothes. Blair bit back a groan at the thought of what the inside of the Subaru must look like now and got up from the report he was finishing for the DA.

"What did you two fall into?" he shook his head, concealing his amusement. Jim was looking a little grim, and Clare's giggles had a nervous edge to them. Miki was looking a little pale and Tommy took her hand in a comforting gesture.

"We threw mud at some boys who were being mean to Miki and she's not well!" Tommy blurted out before Jim could answer. Blair dropped easily to his knees and put a hand to Miki's face. She was supposed to spend the whole weekend with Tommy. He looked at her miserable, mud-spattered face and nodded gently.

"What's up, Miki? Where do you feel sick?" he rubbed her temple with his thumb and she let a few tears slip. Tommy threw his arms around her, ignoring the mud that smeared all over them even further.

"She says her tummy has hurt all week," Tommy told his dad and Blair rubbed her lower back, frowning when she sighed in relief and leant into the touch.

"Have you been feeling funny, Miki? Hot and cold all week?" he asked, instincts and memories clamouring. She nodded into Tommy's shoulder and Blair met Jim's worried eyes.

"Get me the phone, Clare," Blair whispered under his breath and then picked Miki up entirely. He took the cordless phone from his niece and headed into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly and leaving Jim to deal with the mud splattered Tommy.

"Are you sending Miki home because we were bad?" Tommy's face was woe begone as he stripped, careful not to let mud drip on the wooden floor, "We couldn't let her be teased, Uncle Jim. They were saying really bad things. They said she was dirty because her skin is darker than ours is, and they told her I didn't like her anymore. We only showed them what dirty really was."

"If Miki is sick, she'll want to go home to her mom, Tommy," Jim reasoned and then patted the now bare shoulder, "Go into the other bathroom and have a shower. I'll check on Miki for you, ok?"

"Ok," Tommy said in a soft voice and obediently headed for the corridor. Clare had gathered clean clothes for him, which he accepted with a smile and a tug of her long hair. Clare looked up at her Dad in concern and he smiled at her tenderly, holding out his arms for a hug.

"Why don't you go on in the other room and put the TV on. You can watch a video from the cupboard if you like," Jim suggested and was relieved when she grinned and scampered off. He walked over to the closed door and listened to Miki's sobs and Blair's soothing voice. Whatever was going on in there had her upset while Blair was doing his best not to make matters worse for the girl.

"Chief?" Jim called lightly, tapping on the door. Miki made a small moan of embarrassment and Blair soothed her gently.

"Jim, Miki's mom is coming over," Blair called through the closed door, "Could you pack her bag for her - she'll be going home. We'll have her over some other weekend. We could also use a complete change of clothes in here."

"You got it," Jim called back and headed into Tommy's room. He fished out a change for Miki and then repacked the bag. He put it by the door, away from the muddy clothes Tommy had shed. He was straightening when he heard quick footsteps and opened the door, sticking his head out to spot Gabriel Solange as she hustled down the corridor. Her face was a blend of worry and fear.

"She's in the bathroom Gabriel - what did Blair say?" Jim let her in, still monitoring the sobs from the bathroom as Blair helped her clean up.

"He thinks it's her appendix. There's just no way of telling," Gabriel replied as Jim took her coat and she licked her lips nervously, "I'm just so sorry I didn't notice it. I thought she was reacting to her new little sister, not…"

"She's ok, Gabriel. If it is we've caught it in time," Jim tried to be positive as they headed for the bathroom.

"Why do we always seem to sit for each other in dire emergencies?" Gabriel sighed as she took the clean clothes from him, and Jim nodded in acknowledgement. The Solange's had sat for them when he'd had that extreme reaction to the coffee he'd drunk - his Guide had called them in desperation while Jim ranted on the floor and the children had been locked safely in the bathroom.

"Whoa, lady! Too much bad karma!" he put his hands up and Gabriel grinned, got a grip, knocked on the door and was admitted. Blair slipped out moments later and looked at Jim in shock.

"Well, Chief, at least you caught it in time," Jim said in a low voice and Blair rolled his eyes. Before he could snap a comeback Tommy appeared, his eyes going to the bathroom door and the sound of the Solange women's voices. Blair dropped a hand on his shoulder and smiled at the uncombed curls dripping on his son's shoulders.

"Miki is going home because she doesn't feel too good. You can call her tomorrow," Blair told him and patted the shoulder gently, "Now, perhaps you can explain to me why you thought mud pies were a good solution?"

"Aw Da! They said she was dirty. It was ironic!" Tommy produced his latest word with pride - the boy still collected words and languages the way his peers collected baseball cards, though he collected those as well. Blair shook his head and decided to forego the lecture this time. The bathroom door opened and Gabriel emerged with Miki in tow. Gabriel had managed to clean the mud off her daughter entirely and change her into fresh clothes, but it was obvious the little girl still felt very unwell.

Tommy immediately engulfed his friend in a hug and whispered something the adults couldn't hear to her. She nodded and kissed his cheek goodbye - something that had started after the rogue Chopec had kidnapped the children. Gabriel patted Tommy on the shoulder, everyone said goodbye and the two women left.

0o0o0

"Chief, do you think it's odd how touch oriented Tommy is?" Jim asked as they watched the suspect's house. Blair put his binoculars down and turned a little on the truck seat to face his partner. Miki's appendix had been removed and Tommy's first visit to her in the hospital had been spent curled up on the bed with her, reading her a story and holding her hand. The nurses had thought this was so cute they'd taken photos - Jim was figuring on using it for blackmail material at his nephew's twenty-first birthday party.

"He was touch starved when he came to me, Jim. And he's a Guide. Touch is a Guide's primary weapon against zones," Blair frowned, "Why? Does it bother you that he touches Clare?"

"Chief, he touches everyone. He hugs his friends - boys and girls alike - he hugs all the adults he knows except at school - but only because they told him not to - he even hugs us as he walks past on the way to the bathroom. I'm not worried about him touching Clare, and I've never seen him touch a stranger - I just…he touches more than you do," Jim frowned, looking at his brother in the almost dark cab. Blair was frowning too.

"I don't get it - if there's no problem, what are we discussing?" he asked, "And I don't touch as much as Tommy because if I did I'd be arrested. By our colleagues, Jim - you know, the big men who carry guns?"

"So what you're saying is it's your instinct to touch just as much as Tommy does? And you're always controlling that instinct?"

"No, I'm saying that as I got to high school I realized that people didn't touch that much and gradually stopped doing it - I sort of limited myself to the more casual range of touches - hand to shoulder and so on. Tommy will reach that stage too," Blair replied, turning to look back out of the windscreen. Jim nodded and turned to refocus on the house.

Upon reflection it seemed kind of sad to Jim that a person who liked to express himself through touch was denied that outlet. Perhaps that was why Blair spoke so much about his feelings and thoughts. He was compensating for the lack of a good hug. Jim didn't mind his Guide touching him - in fact the Sentinel positively gloated at any prolonged contact with his Guide.

It was society that had taught Jim that only lovers hugged and touched each other, but more than one outsider at the station had mistaken him and Blair for lovers. Jim himself did best with show and not tell, though it was difficult for him to break through the barriers put on his behaviour by modern society.

Jim glanced at his Guide, who was answering the radio check with the easy efficiency of someone who'd been doing the job for years. Perhaps there was a way to return touch as a primary method of communication for Blair and a way to desensitise his own in-built reactions at the same time. Jim smiled wryly and shook his head. His partner glanced over curiously but didn't ask him what he was smiling about and Jim didn't elaborate.

Deciding to start the program now, Jim reached across the seat and took Blair's hand. He heard his Guide's heart rate speed up in surprise and then settle down as their fingers entwined comfortably. Their skin warmed at the contact and Blair squeezed the fingers tangled with his comfortably, not even taking his gaze off the house they were watching.

After an hour, Jim heard Simon approaching and considered untangling their hands for a moment. Then he realized that Blair's vital signs were at total rest. Even though his Guide was awake and efficiently making notes in the logbook, Blair was as calm and relaxed as if he was asleep. If an hour of holding hands could do that for his friend, what would a hug do?

Deciding to explore the possibilities later, Jim warned his partner of their boss's approach and let him disengage. He caught the glance that Blair sent him and promptly retook his hand.

"I don't care if he sees us holding hands. Simon knows the score. Besides, since the twins were born he's mellowed," Jim grinned. His partner rolled his eyes and pulled a face but made no effort to pull away.

"Not that much," Blair told him seriously, but wound down his window and grinned at their boss.

0o0o00o0o00o0o0

Clare grinned up at her Guide and took the hand he was holding out, accepting the help to get up into the tree he was crouched in. Once she was in the lower branches Tommy turned and headed up higher, Clare swarming easily after him now the first step had been taken.

Camping was their favourite activity - a chance to run wild for a while and play as they liked while their fathers kicked back and relaxed. Jim and Blair were currently fishing, and Tommy had snuck off to climb trees near the water. Clare had tracked him down and the older boy had climbed down to give her the boost she needed to come along with him. The summer sunshine was hot, but the leafy haven they climbed through was cool and shady.

They reached a gap in the branches and paused to admire the view. This particular camping site boasted a river that ran along a ravine. There were mountains in the distance and a clear blue sky that just went on forever.

"Hawks!" Clare pointed to some distant specks in the sky, and Tommy peered at them, taking her word for it, "See them Tommy? There are four of them, just circling the clearing!"

"Hey! Junior Sentinel! Some of us can't see that much detail," Tommy grinned, "I can see four specks and nothing else. Pull back a bit. If you zone up here you'll fall out of the tree!"

"But they're so beautiful!" Clare sighed, and did what she'd been told. Her dad would never let her climb another tree ever again if she fell out of this one. She loved that he cared enough about her to worry and protect her, but sometimes she wished he wasn't so smart - he could spot whenever they'd been doing the wrong thing the moment he saw them. Uncle Blair was worse - he knew without even needing to be in the same city.

"Hey I think we can get into the next tree from over there," Tommy told Clare to distract her, "Let's see how far we can go without walking on the ground."

"Yeah!" Clare enthused and they began to scramble and climb in earnest. The weekly tai chi, Clare's dance classes and Tommy's gymnastics club all helped the children to get across gaps that less coordinated people would have hesitated to tackle. As they climbed they called jokes and encouragement to each other, plotting their route together and suggesting grips or stretches. Time slipped away unmarked until Tommy slipped, missing the branch he was reaching for. He fell a short distance before slamming into the ground.

"Tommy!" Clare shrieked, and slid down as quickly as she could. Tommy was crying and wheezing, trying to suck air back into his winded lungs and cradling his left wrist close. Clare reached him and flung her arms around his shoulders, crying too and trying to lift him up.

"Stop it!" Tommy groaned and Clare settled down, containing her sobs and wiping first her face then his. They lay there for a little while, regaining their breath while they recovered from the shock.

"Tommy?" Clare asked in a small voice, "Are you ok?"

"I think I broke my wrist," Tommy moaned, his face pale, "It really hurts Clare."

"When did it get so dark?" Clare asked nervously, looking at the lengthening shadows, "Is that why you fell?"

"Yeah I guess," Tommy rocked back and forth on the ground in an effort to alleviate some of the pain. Clare sniffed hard once and then got her arms under Tommy again, heaving him upright with rare strength. Tommy hissed, but didn't complain as he held his arm close.

"You ok?" Tommy asked after a moment, and Clare nodded, standing up and looking around carefully. She sighed, realizing that they were a long way from the camp and their dads. She looked down at Tommy who was still rocking and made a decision.

"We can't stay here tonight, we have to walk back," Clare said firmly, "Daddy can check your wrist for you."

"You could go without me," Tommy suggested, "It hurts too much Clare. Please."

"Tommy Sandburg, get up!" Clare snapped, "I'm not leaving you here, and it's too dangerous to sleep out. C'mon!"

Tommy sighed and struggled to his feet as she tugged on him, hissing in pain and cradling his wrist close. His face went even paler and he staggered to a tree, leaning on it and trying to catch his breath. He glared over at his anxious Sentinel and ignored her impatience to regain his balance.

"Just 'cos you're a Sentinel you can't boss me around," Tommy warned her, "The Guide is the one who's in charge - my Da is your Dad's boss."

"Is not," Clare retorted, "Not at work!"

"We don't have jobs," Tommy told her crankily, "We're kids Clare. And my wrist hurts too much to walk back to camp. I'm staying here. Besides, you don't even know where the camp is - we were climbing all afternoon, not walking. There's no track for you to follow. And it's getting dark - I won't be able to see soon."

"So give up then!" Clare said in a shrill voice, "And I can find the camp! I can!"

She burst into tears and Tommy hung his head. Uncle Jim and Da were always telling him that as the oldest he had to take care of his 'little sister' when they were out together. Clare was scared and it was his job to watch out for her. Besides she was right - they couldn't really stay out overnight. Tommy straightened away from the tree and walked over to the sobbing girl.

"Ok, ok, stop crying," he said wearily, "We'll head for camp. Our dads are probably looking for us by now; we'll probably meet up with them. But this won't work if you're crying so calm down."

As apologies went it was pretty lousy, but it was enough for Clare and she calmed down as ordered. She wiped her face again and sniffed defiantly, glaring at him. His face softened and he patted her on the shoulder with his good hand.

"Ok, try hearing," he suggested, "Just sort of stretch your ears out and see if you can hear them yelling."

Clare took his offered hand and took a deep breath, her head tilting to one side a little as she followed his directions. Tommy used the words he'd heard his Da use time and again with both Sentinels and watched to make sure she didn't zone out.

"There!" Clare exclaimed and led the way, using eyes that had adjusted to the lower amount of light automatically to avoid the roughest ground and any obstacles that Tommy would no longer be able to spot.

0o0o0

Jim heard his partner cry out and drop his rod. Turning, he saw Blair doubled over on the bank of the river, gasping and clutching his wrist. Jim had been standing in the river thigh deep, half zoned on the repetitive flowing movements of fly-fishing and the bubbling sound of the water as it flowed around the bend and over some rocks. Blair's heartbeat had been an underlying ambient sound, smooth and slow as his Guide meditated through the fishing too.

"Chief!" he exclaimed and waded out of the water, dropping his rod to the ground and reaching for the wrist that was being clutched so tightly, "What happened?"

"Tommy," Blair gasped, "He fell! Oh God, he fell out of the tree!"

Jim looked around wildly, trying to spot his nephew on the ground. With a start he realized the sunset was painting their campsite with the first golden light and that the children were nowhere nearby.

"Sandburg! Blair! I can't see the kids! You're scaring me!" Jim blurted, shaking his friend hard. Clarity returned to the deep blue eyes and Blair straightened up, pulling away and heading for the tents.

"We need the first aid kit," he tossed over his shoulder, "Start searching, Jim - look for their voices and heartbeats."

Jim took a deep breath, calmed himself down and sent his hearing out on the winds. He picked up the rapid heartbeats and bickering straight away and turned in that direction as Blair emerged from the tent. His Guide met him as he strode to the edge of the clearing.

"We need to call them," Blair hooked a hand into the back of the wet shorts Jim was wearing, letting the other man's superior eyesight guide them along the track, "Clare will probably be listening for us. Jim…can you hear Tommy?"

"Yeah," Jim nodded, "He's conscious and mobile. They're arguing about what to do. Clare's trying to find us with her hearing. Clare! Can you hear me? We're on our way honey! Just take it easy! She heard me Chief - they're walking this way."

Blair nodded and began to talk, warning both the Sentinels against zoning out in the dark and encouraging them to let their hearing and sight work in tandem to let them find each other quicker. Jim interjected occasional directions - like head a little more to the left Clare - in order to make their job easier. A half-hour of rapid walking on the part of the adults brought them to their children and Tommy was engulfed in his father's warm arms.

A quick check by Jim found a sprained wrist and a bumped head, but nothing more serious than that. Tommy was lifted onto his uncle's back and Clare guided her father's Guide over the rough terrain as they headed back to camp. Blair lit a fire and heated soup while Jim dealt with the first aid, and then both children were fed and snuggled close.

"We are so lucky," Blair kissed short curls and rubbed his son's back, "Any other family would have had to call Search and Rescue. You could still be out there."

"I'm sorry," Tommy sniffed, "We just lost track of time. I slipped because the light was going. I'm not a very good Guide."

"What?" Jim exclaimed, "Tommy - you're a little young to be worrying about whether you're a good Guide or not. And Clare didn't zone - I heard the way you talked to her the whole time, telling her to tune in and then tune out again. That was a good idea."

"Jim's right, sweetie, you shouldn't be worrying about being a good or bad Guide yet," Blair rocked them both a bit, comforting his son with the familiar movement.

"But you're a good Guide," Tommy protested, snuggling in drowsily. Blair laughed.

"I'm older than you are, and I've had more opportunities to practice. It's ok sweetie. Let me and Uncle Jim worry about it now," he murmured softly, hoping to send the tired and sore child to sleep. Clare stirred in Jim's lap and looked across the fire.

"You are too my Guide anyway," she said firmly, "You're the only one who makes me feel all tingly. Except for Uncle Blair, but that's different. Daddy doesn't make me feel that way at all and none of my friends either. So there."

Blair chuckled at this resounding endorsement and the description of Guide touch. Tommy didn't reply - he had finally drifted off to sleep.

0o0o0

Jim watched Miki admire the sprained wrist and Clare greet her new best friend Lucy with shrieks of delight. The children headed inside and he put the truck in gear, checked the mirror and pulled out into traffic.

They had stayed out at the campsite for the full three days they'd planned despite Tommy's injured wrist. The boy had been adamant that he didn't want to go home and Blair had indicated that he didn't feel the need to rush back to civilization and a hospital.

Jim slowed for a red light and replayed the weekend in his mind. How had Blair known his son had fallen from the tree and hurt himself? Was his partner becoming psychic in his old age? Imagining the look on Blair's face if Jim suggested that to him had the cop chuckling. He'd be dragged off to the nearest doctor and hospitalised for prolonged observation.

Maybe it was a Shaman thing. Blair was certainly able to anticipate every mood, whim and need of Jim's perfectly. He had them taking herbal remedies for colds before they caught them - for someone to actually get sick in the immediate or extended family was very rare nowadays. In fact Major Crimes hadn't been hit badly by the flu season for years.

He answered the phone with the name of the person calling - provided he knew them - and was able to locate just about anyone from their family with a few minutes thought. Simon had noticed it and even Moira had said something to Jim about Blair's uncanny sixth sense.

Pulling into the station, Jim shrugged it aside for now. Blair was still working on the Sentinel dissertation - Clare and Tommy were giving him all new data and ideas to work from - perhaps the answer lay somewhere in the twenty-nine volume document locked in the safe at William Ellison's house. Or perhaps Jim would just write a dissertation of his own - a Guide dissertation. The idea appealed to him and he nodded to himself as he walked through the station to the elevator.

"Earth to Jim," Rafe teased and Jim looked up grinning. The dapper young cop was holding the lift for his colleague and Jim hurried to step inside.

"How was the camping trip?" Rafe asked after they'd exchanged the traditional Monday greetings. Jim rolled his eyes and put on an exasperated face.

"How do you think? I took two Sandburgs out into the wilderness," he sighed and Rafe chuckled, waiting to hear whatever disaster had occurred, "The kids wandered off and climbed a tree, which Tommy promptly fell out of. Sprained wrist."

"He ok?" Rafe looked concerned and Jim nodded immediately. The whole department had adopted Tommy upon his arrival, and Clare too. You didn't joke about the kid's health in the bullpen - those guys were armed and dangerous.

"Yeah, just fine. It's his left hand so he went to school happily enough. Had all the girls oohing over his bandage before he'd even walked in the gate," Jim grinned, happy to spread the 'like father like son' gossip before his partner reached the station. Blair would be ribbed for sure.

The lift let them out and they walked into the bullpen. Simon was putting his coat back on and heading for the door. He looked tired and harassed, and Jim smelt the odour of vomit on him, though no one else would have noticed it.

"Simon? The twins?" Jim asked and his boss sighed, shaking his head. Moira's pregnancy had come as a real surprise, and the twins were an even bigger one. Daryl was a hugely proud big brother, though he was in the first year of college and didn't get to see them often.

"Ate something that was off - we've been up all night with vomit bowls and wet cloths," Simon grimaced, "I'm not going to stay - just had to get the budget e-mailed over to the Chief. We've had the doctor in and Sandburg showed up when I was leaving with something for their stomach."

"Moira ok?" Rafe asked while Jim mused that his partner's sixth sense had struck again. Simon nodded and took his leave of his men while Jim shrugged his coat off and waited for his partner to arrive. The first chapter for the Guide dissertation was firming up.

0o0o00o0o00o0o0

"…And let all the primates out of their cages," Joel was saying as the lift doors opened. Blair looked up from the shoelace he was tying for Clare - they were in a hurry - and frowned. Jim and Joel stepped out of the elevator and walked along the corridor to 205. The bag containing Clare's dancing kit rested on the floor beside them, ready to go.

"Where was this?" Blair asked as he straightened. Joel grimaced at him.

"Rainier," Joel sighed, "Apparently the kids responsible had been watching 'Twelve Monkeys' and that movie with Matthew Broderick. So they let all the research animals loose from the labs. Unfortunately most of these animals are ill equipped to deal with life in Cascade."

"Will they be alright Daddy?" Clare looked up at her father anxiously and he nodded, smiling gently and ruffling her hair.

"Don't worry, honey," Jim told her, "It's ok. Hey, Chief - was Larry still at the Uni?"

"Nah - he was retired a long time ago," the curly haired man said significantly - which Jim took to mean the Barbary Ape that had trashed the loft was no longer in the physical world, though there was a scratch in the floor that Jim would always have to remind the Sentinel of his reluctant house guest.

"His grandkids are there, though," Blair bit a lip, obviously worried about the primates and the city. Joel put a hand on his shoulder. The Professor was always worrying about others - his big heart was well known in the bullpen.

"The lab was trashed pretty badly, the ones they catch are going to the zoo or the animal shelter," Joel told him and Blair grinned. There was a crash inside the loft and Jim frowned while Clare tensed.

"Is Tommy in there?" he asked his partner who shook his head.

"Tommy is at Miki's this weekend - the big slumber party, remember?" Tommy's father reminded his uncle. Jim tightened his jaw even further and pushed Clare towards Joel.

"Go with Uncle Joel, honey, while we check it out," Jim told his daughter and Joel took her hand, pulling her back towards the lift while Blair unlocked the door as quietly as possible and then slipped into place behind Jim.

The lamp that usually sat on the table near the couch had shattered into pieces, knocked off by someone. Jim looked around, a semi-familiar scent teasing his nose. There was no one in Blair's half of their loft. A few more crashes and thuds came from Jim's loft and he moved swiftly on silent feet to the corridor. Blair was a shadow, echoing his silent movements perfectly.

Jim frowned, locating the heartbeat of the intruder and he turned to look at his Guide.

"The heart beat is wrong," he breathed quietly and Blair frowned at him too. Before he could ask the question on the tip of his tongue there was another crash and Jim leapt into his loft, gun covering the area in a smooth sweep.

"Cascade PD! Freeze!" he snapped, tracking the movement. The intruder froze and quivered. Blair was quivering too - with laughter. A strong sense of déjà vu was hanging over Jim as he straightened up.

"Aw man," Jim sighed and put away his gun, "The little wretch has smashed all the breakfast plates and my favourite coffee cup. Not to mention the fruit bowl. How on earth did he get in? Did you leave a window open Chief?"

"He was hungry, weren't you fella?" Blair moved around Jim and put his hands out gently, ignoring the implication that this was somehow his fault. The intruder took one look and then was in his arms in a flying leap, "You still got any of Clare's old bottle and teats lying around?"

Jim looked at the Barbary Ape nestling into the warmth and scent of his Guide and recognized a kindred spirit. He sighed, giving in to the inevitable.

"Yeah," he headed for the front door first to tell Joel and Clare it was all clear and then went to fish one of the old feeding bottles from storage. When he got back to the loft the Ape was sitting in Blair's lap, eating fragments of orange and some of the nuts left over from the last poker night.

Clare was cooing from the other side of the table and Joel was chuckling while he waited for the Uni to answer his call.

"He's got a collar on," Jim observed, rapidly filling the bottle with water and a little juice, remembering the way his last primate guest had liked it, "Does he have a name?"

Blair looked but didn't answer as Joel's call was picked up and he explained who he was and what their situation was. They listened to the syncopated conversation in silence, Blair concentrating on the hungry animal in his arms and Clare torn between watching and listening.

"Uh, hang on," Joel put a hand over the mouthpiece. Jim, who knew what was coming, handed the bottle over and began trying to think if he'd thrown out that blanket that had been spoiled by the pot of children's paint or if it was still in the closet somewhere.

"They've run out of room at the shelter, guys. And well - they know you've cared for a Barbary Ape before, Sandburg. They want to know if you can keep him for a week or so?" Joel raised his eyebrows and Clare bounced on her knees in excitement.

"Oh, please!" she smiled, "Can we Daddy?"

"I suppose so," Jim sighed, and grinned at his daughter and Guide while Joel relayed the affirmative answer, "What's his name then?"

"Larry junior," Blair chuckled, taking the empty bottle and holding it out for a refill, "Looks like we've come full circle, Jim."

-End-

0o0o0

Continued in Mother Love…


	9. Mother Love

**All hail the mighty iamdeaf – the buster of writer's block! Thank you, you saved my sanity!**

**Mother Love**



Blair dodged easily through the crowds of doting parents backstage, smiling hello's at the children he knew and dropping compliments as he went to performers and parents alike. Jim was still sitting out in the auditorium, guarded jealously by his nephew while Blair braved the horde to retrieve their very own family star – Clare Terese Ellison: ballerina extraordinaire.

The jerk with the baseball bat had only managed to hit Jim Ellison once during his arrest – but that blow was hard enough and in the right place to burst his appendix. Jim had still managed to chase the man for two blocks before arresting him and escorting him through booking. He'd collapsed in the bullpen when he stretched out to reach a file on Brown's desk. One emergency appendectomy later, Jim was still weak and the surgery site was sore. He had checked out of hospital only that afternoon – determined to surprise his only daughter for her first dance recital. Joel had copped a glare from the annoyed Guide when he'd turned up with the newly released detective and settled the pale man into his designated chair. Joel hadn't been able to stay and was sort of glad – Blair would have something to say about this and the Captain didn't want to be around to hear it.

Clare had not been the star – that honor had gone to another little girl in her class, though Clare's character did have one short solo dance towards the end. The Sandburg-Ellison family couldn't have cared less if she was the 'curtain puller' – their little girl was going to be on stage and they were proud of it. The PD had been most disappointed that the dance school had limited the number of tickets available to each family – otherwise they'd have bought out the show.

Taking a deep breath and pulling a hand through his hair, Blair located where Clare was mentally – sort of mapping the backstage area in his mind and placing her within it. He'd noticed that he'd been able to find the children quickly when he was really looking, but had dismissed that as just the skill of a conscientious single parent. Turning the corner he frowned at the back of the woman that was bent over, offering Clare a bouquet of flowers and telling her what a little star she was. Clare's face was guarded, and she glanced past her admirer anxiously as Blair's heartbeat and scent reached her.

"Uncle Blair!" Clare smiled and held out her arms, knowing better than to push past the woman – it would be rude and her father and uncle prized good manners. Blair waited until the woman had drawn back a little to let Clare out and put his arms out too, letting Clare rush into them and be swept up into a full body hug.

"You were fabulous honey!" Blair praised, "You looked so good up there!"

Clare snuggled in, wrapping her tight clad legs around him and winding her arms around his neck. Her tutu crinkled, but neither bothered with it as Blair kissed her glitter dusted cheek and rocked a little. He glanced over at the woman that had been offering Clare the flowers and felt his breath catch in surprise.

Rachael Collins-Jackson had not changed much in the seven years since Blair had seen her. Her hair was a little longer, and she now wore makeup. She was still slender and chic, and the bouquet she carried looked to be tailor made for a child. Before Blair could greet her, Clare lifted her head from the crook of his shoulder and looked at him with sad eyes.

"Did you take pictures for daddy?" she asked in a little voice. The child understood that Daddy was in hospital and really wanted to see her dance, but she was still young enough to wish for a miracle. Blair ignored the tightening of Rachael's face and the calculating look in her eyes as he smiled at his little ballerina.

"I took a few, but there's a surprise waiting for you outside. Better than any old photo's," Blair bounced her on his hip, "Why don't you come and see before you get changed?"

"Ok," Clare got down happily enough and took his hand easily, smiling up at him as he bowed her forward and led the way through the stage area and out into the nearly empty auditorium. As they emerged from the stage door, Jim and Tommy started clapping loudly and calling 'bravo' and 'encore'.

"Daddy!" Clare shrieked in joy and pulled free to run to her father's seat. Tommy stepped in front of Jim, catching her first and preventing any injury to the already hurting man. Clare looked up at her Guide and nodded in understanding before stepping around him and climbing on the seat next to her father. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek tenderly, then snuggled into his shoulder, whispering things only he could hear and listening to his equally soft replies.

Tommy came and leaned into his own father, feeling strong arms encircle him from behind and a kiss pressed into his short curls. The two Guides smiled at their Sentinels and waited for them to come out of the mini zone they had drifted into – one that put blinders to the world around them. Blair had often wondered what it was like to have only one person make up your entire world, and to know that you were their entire world too. Rachael stood to one side, naked desire on her face as she watched both sets of father and child express their love and joy for each other.

Finally Clare was persuaded to lean back and Jim got her to get up and show off her costume for them. She twirled on the spot and then curtsied deeply, giggling as she did and they broke into another round of applause. Dressed in powder blue tights and leotard with pastel pink and green tulle for a tutu, Clare was the image of a spring orchid. Her blonde hair was slick with gel and glitter, and tied in a bun with a pastel pink scrunchie. Glitter was dusted over her cheeks and bare arms – glitter that was now liberally spread all over her three men from their contact with her. Tommy presented her with the flowers he'd chosen with his Da on the way to the performance and then Rachael stepped forward too, to again offer her flowers to Clare. The little girl glanced at her father, who nodded, and thanked the pretty lady, taking them with a stage curtsey that charmed them all.

"Ok, honey – let's get you changed," Blair glanced at Rachael, "Tommy, you can come too – you wanted to see the backstage area, right? We'll leave the flowers with you Jim. Stay right here – do not get up without me to help you, understand?"

"Yes dear," Jim rolled his eyes at the children who giggled, glancing at the patriarch of the family as they did. Blair pulled a face right on back and herded his young charges away, grumbling that he got no respect. Jim waited until the door closed behind them to turn to his ex-lover.

"Rachael," he gestured to a seat next to him, "I must say I'm surprised to see you."

She sat carefully, her whole demeanor well groomed and poised. She looked him over carefully and frowned. His clothes were a little rumpled and he sat unnaturally stiff in the saggy chair. He had a slight beard and his hair needed a brush.

"You don't look too good, Jim," she commented, "And why wasn't Clare expecting you to be here?"

"My appendix burst. I signed out of the hospital to come and watch her dance. You didn't answer my question," Jim said tersely. Rachael tilted her head in that annoying mannerism that she had, making Jim grit his teeth a little and reach for patience. In their short affair, Jim had come to hate that little tilt. It spoke of superiority and elitism.

"You didn't ask a question, Jim," she told him flatly, in a superior tone, "However, I suppose you are a little curious. I came to see my daughter. That's not against the law."

"No, but it is against the agreement you made me sign before she was born. You were to have nothing to do with us – you gave your baby to me to raise entirely alone," Jim's voice was harsh and cold, "Not once have I tried to contact you, not once have I asked you for anything. We're happy."

"George died a few months ago," Rachael ignored what Jim had said, her eyes fixed on the middle distance, "So any reason I had to give up my baby no longer exists. I want to be a part of her life again. I have my lawyer working on it now."

Jim felt his blood run cold.



Blair had to wash Clare clean of all the glitter and gel before she could be put to bed, and then he had to listen to Tommy go over his homework while Jim sat stiffly on the couch next door, refusing to go to bed. Tommy glanced at the dark corridor several times and did his best to speed up his time with his Da. Blair realized what he was doing and stopped it straight away – Sentinel and Guide had both promised not to stint their children of the love and attention they deserved in order to tend to the Sentinel/Guide bond.

It was almost ten o'clock before Blair could get back to Jim. He found his brother asleep on the couch, propped up stiffly and very pale. Larry the Barbary Ape – the guest who had been supposed to stay for a week but had been adopted by the family when the Uni found itself unable to re-open the labs that had cared for him – was curled on Jim's lap. Beads of sweat dotted Jim's top lip and forehead, and Blair did an abrupt about face. He quickly made up a care tray and carried it up to Jim's bedroom before walking back to his soul mate and carefully removing the man's shoes, socks and undoing his shirt. Once upright, Jim would only want to lie back down again as quickly as possible. The less he had to do the better. Blair lifted Larry from his partners' lap and carried the ape to his basket on top of Jim's fridge before going back to the sick man. Blair smiled and woke him gently, getting the man upright while he was still dazed and unsure, slipping his shirt off as he swayed on the spot.

He woke enough to get safely up the stairs, and was able to stand while Blair removed his trousers and boxers. Blair eased him down onto the bed tenderly, then picked up the warm washcloth and massaged skin that still carried the feel of hospital sheets, the smell of hospital air and the taste of hospital food on it. Jim smiled blissfully and went straight back to sleep as his Guide tended his body. Blair patted his partner dry with one of the soft towels that they had bought specially for Clare when she was a baby, and then managed to pull a pair of pajama bottoms onto the sleeping man. He slipped the sleep mask over darkly shadowed eyes and pulled the hot water bottles from the bedding, drawing the now warm sheets and quilt up over the relaxed form. The man in the bed sighed in delight and settled into a deeper sleep.

Blair stroked Jim's forehead with his thumb for a few moments and then got up, leaving the glass of water in easy reach before retrieving the tray from the floor and walking back down the stairs. Rachael had been gone by the time Blair and the children had returned, but Jim's face had spoken volumes.

Unsure of the specifics, Blair powered up the laptop and connected to the CPD database. Ever since Clare's startling advent into their lives Blair had used the database to keep track of George Jackson and his adulterous wife. First check was with the license department – and the Guide frowned when the notation for George Jackson came up. 'Deceased' had an ominous ring to it. Was Rachael back in their lives because she had been following her husbands wishes seven years ago – with him gone there would be no obstacle to her attempting to enter Clare's life.

The next stop was the case file archive. When the search failed Blair realized that meant the case was still active – so there was something about the cause of death or the circumstances leading to it that was suspicious. Blair thought about it for a moment and then tried the medical examiner's database. He found George's autopsy report and read through it, wincing as always at the way cold medical jargon described the final moments of a person's life.

George had been declared dead at the scene of his car accident – and an autopsy had been held on the strength of the anomalies in the paramedics' report. The deceased had been beaten pretty severely with a blunt instrument. There was no jewelry or money on the body, prompting the police to treat it as a mugging. Blair frowned and looked through the file again. He sent a copy to Dan Wolfe, the CPD medical examiner with a request that the man review the injuries and give Blair his opinion on the deceased likely ability to get into a car and drive. Unable to access the case file – they weren't entered until the case was closed – Blair copied the contact details for the examiner who'd written the report and the detectives working it.

Blair sighed and shut down the modem and the laptop, packing it away and going upstairs to his own bed. With a bit of luck Dan would tell Blair that the death of George Jackson was exactly what it seemed and Jim would be able to tell him what Rachael had said.

Lying in the dark, Blair wriggled to get comfortable – a childhood habit he'd never lost – and slowed his breathing deliberately. The old trick worked, he could feel sleep creeping up on him rapidly.

"NO!" the shout was muted by the walls, but Blair was up and down the stairs in a flash, hurrying into his partners half of their home and up the stairs again, hearing Tommy stir and tumble out of bed to follow him. His son went into Clare's room, and Blair breathed a silent prayer of thanks that the young Guide was more interested in his young Sentinel than the senior one upstairs.

Jim was moving restlessly, his face beaded with sweat, the covers half off the bed.

"**NO! _DON'T!_**" he yelled, his face reddening. Blair caught at a flailing hand and pressed the palm to his chest, whispering reassurances in Chopec. Jim began to calm down, moaning in the grip of the dream and pressing his hand hard against the heartbeat he could feel.

"Wake up, Jim. We're safe, the children are safe, we're all here," Blair smiled as his efforts were rewarded by a deep rough breath and pale blue eyes snapping open to focus on his face immediately. He watched Jim extend his hearing to Tommy and Clare – his daughter was asleep still, undisturbed by his nightmare because Tommy had switched on the white noise generators and then sat on the floor by her bed.

"Go tell Tommy I'm ok, and he can go back to bed," Jim rasped, and Blair got up immediately, knowing his brother needed the time to get his head together. He walked lightly back down the stairs and smiled at the sight of his son trying not to fall asleep where he sat. Rather than waking the boy up Blair simply picked him up off the floor, using the bundles of muscles he'd gained over the years of police work and parenting an active child. He carried his son back to bed and settled him with a kiss and a soothing stroke of rumpled curls before checking on Larry and carrying a second glass of water and some aspirin up the stairs to Jim. The Sentinel had accepted the aspirin meekly and settled down on the remade bed, letting his Guide fuss gently around him and seeing to his comfort.

"It's ok, Jim," Blair got into the empty side of the bed and curled up in a ball, taking Jim's hand and pulling it up to his cheek like a child would with a teddy bear, "You can tell me about it."

"I…" Jim hesitated and sighed. He stared up at the skylight and the faint stars he could see through it, "I'm afraid. Rachael wants Clare."

"I see," Blair stroked the hand that was stroking his cheek, "I thought that the documents we had to sign extinguished her maternal rights."

In truth, Blair hadn't had to sign anything – the contract had only been between Jim and the Jackson's, but the habit of referring to both children as his was long ingrained now, as it was with Jim. The inclusion of his Guide in the situation soothed the frightened Sentinel, as Blair had known it would, and Jim turned his head to look at his curled up brother.

"That's what the lawyer said," Jim bit a lip, "I was gonna call him first thing in the morning."

"Good," Blair nodded and peered through the gloom at him, "Maybe we can stave off a huge mess if we offer her visiting rights or something. We may have to compromise a little here, buddy."

"I know," Jim tightened his grip and pulled Blair's hands closer. Blair understood what he wanted and shifted over, leaning his head against Jim's upper arm. The back of Jim's hand came to rest against his heart again, seeking the soothing sound out.

"It just made me so mad. She didn't want Clare at all, and she never even went to see her while they were both still in hospital. Now I have to introduce Clare to a mother she doesn't know. And then try to explain where she's come from and why she's there," Jim let it all out, soothed by the silky curls brushing his arm, the warm scent wafting through the room and the heartbeat that overlaid it all.

"Clare's never asked where her mother was, and that picture I keep of me and Rachael in the living room… she knows who the woman is and she knows that Rachael is her mother but…"

"It's abstract knowledge. Tommy doesn't have a Mommy and so Clare just thinks it's normal for her to have a Daddy and an Uncle just like he does," Blair mused, "She doesn't feel a lack in her life. You know that if she did she'd have asked Jim, all her friends have Mommies and Daddies. You've loved her so much she doesn't know what she's missing. She's not like Tommy."

"But Tommy doesn't seem to miss Amelia," Jim protested, and Blair smiled, propping himself up on one elbow. Jim wouldn't tolerate a word of criticism about his family – even if it was family making it.

"No, but he does know that he should have a Mommy. He started life with Amelia and he knows that our family is different. It's not an abstract for him," Blair soothed Jim's frown away and lay back down, "Go to sleep, Jim. We can worry about this in the morning."

"We love you Chief – me and the kids. You know that, right?" Jim turned his head and was met with a beautiful smile, "And we know you love us. Our Patriarch."

"I will never forgive your Dad for introducing that idea to Tommy," Blair laughed and closed his eyes when Jim chuckled. Sentinel followed Guide into sleep.



Simon looked up as Blair came into the bullpen ahead of his partner and stood, going to the open door of his office. Both men were later than usual and both looked tired and worried about something. Jim was a surprise – the detective was still off work at doctors orders; until the operation site recovered Jim wasn't allowed anywhere near the streets and wasn't supposed to be at his desk until next week. Hating to place another burden on the already worried man, Simon took a deep breath and made sure his voice was neutral and calm.

"Sandburg – I need to talk to you," he called and went back to his desk. He watched the curly haired consultant drop his coat onto the back of his chair and push up the flannel sleeves of his top layer of shirts before heading in to Simon's office while his partner sat down at their desk and started checking their messages.

Sandburg closed the door behind himself and sat in the chair Simon pointed to. He clasped his hands loosely over his stomach and raised both eyebrows at his boss.

"What's up, Simon?" Blair asked patiently. Simon looked out at Jim and then back at Blair.

"You guys are late. Trouble?" he decided to find out what was going on there first – then he'd know how to deal with this new issue. Blair blew out a breath and nodded, also glancing out at his frowning partner.

"Rachael Collins-Jackson turned up at Clare's dance recital last night. She told Jim that her husband was dead and she wanted custody of her daughter," Blair shook his head, "I've got Dan going over the files now – the cause of death may be screwy. Jim of course didn't tell me straight away and woke us all with his nightmares. We stopped by the lawyer on the way here to get the legal ball rolling. What's up with you?"

"The Mayor wants to send you to a month long conference on Modern Law Enforcement In Multicultural Environments," Simon shook his head, and Blair pulled a face, "And the organizers of the conference have sent me a request that I make you available to present some _thing_ you wrote that I've never heard of. Do you…are…"

"I don't want to leave with this hanging over our heads," Blair shook his head immediately, "So I'll have to turn them down."

"It's not for another three months, Sandburg," Simon said reasonably, "And I don't have to let the organizers know straight away. They'll probably want to contact you in person anyway. That wasn't what I was asking."

"Oh," Blair's keen eyes swept Simon from head to toe in a considering gaze and then he smiled, "I publish on a fairly regular basis, Simon. I'm pretty active in the field. As a physical anthropologist it's pretty hard for me not to publish – we come across so many fascinating situations and customs."

"It sounded like they were asking you to talk about a…well, a book," Simon blurted and his eyes widened when Blair nodded and ducked his head modestly.

"You wrote a book? When? Am I in it? Can I read it? Does Jim know?" Simon fired the questions off rapidly, leaning forward in excitement. Out in the bullpen Jim's head came up and he got slowly out of his seat, moving carefully into Simon's office. Blair got up to ease his partner safely into a chair and then put a hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, I wrote a book, about five years ago. The PD is in it, but I've changed your identities. I don't have a copy to give you – and I didn't tell anyone about. The money is in the PD Widow and Orphans fund. If you went to Rainier and asked at the student bookstore they might be able to get you a copy – I can't imagine anyone would have copies lying about in stock," Blair smiled at his partner and boss, then brought Jim up to date. The waiver that everyone had signed when Blair wrote his thesis had covered the book rights as well – and the book was basically an extended version of the thesis.

Simon made a note to call the store in his lunch hour and see if they could find a copy. Then he turned to his senior detective.

"Sandburg told me what happened last night. What do the lawyers say?" Simon frowned at the pale face and clenched jaw. The resident Shaman reached over and soothed some of the tension away and then took one of the cold hands in his own, lending his strength and support in that touch.

"The original contract is very tight," Jim sighed, "It's just…if she manages to get a judge that believes in mother's rights overriding the father's…they can say she was bullied into giving Clare up by her husband. He's not exactly around to defend himself."

"Mother's rights? You don't think a mother has the right to see her child?" Simon asked, wondering at the odd phrase. Jim pinched his lips together and let his partner answer.

"There's no question that Rachael should be allowed to see her daughter. We're more than willing to let her have regular access visits with Clare. But she wants sole custody. If we get a judge that feels that Rachael's rights overturn Jim's simply because she's a mother, things could go wrong. Right now the idea that we could lose Clare has us worried. The lawyers are working on presenting our case now and in the meantime we're going to grant any reasonable requests Rachael has," Blair rubbed a thumb over the hand he held and Simon nodded. A thought occurred that had him frowning.

"Hey, what if Clare turns out to be a Sentinel. Could that happen?" he asked and then scowled at the reaction of his men, "She is already? And you didn't tell me? Sandburg – you're Guiding two Sentinel's?"

"Tommy is Clare's Guide," Jim corrected his boss and frowned at the look of horror on Simon's face, "Simon? What's wrong?"

"You can't be serious? Sandburg – how can you put your son through all that?" Simon blurted, "I mean, it's different for you – you chose all this. How can you make that sweet boy go through all the crap I've seen you go through whenever Jim goes awry?"

"Firstly, Jim is not a hat – he can't go awry. And secondly, there's no crap going on here Simon. I'm watching over both the children very carefully," Blair frowned. Understanding dawned on Jim's face and he leaned forward, wincing a little as his stitches pulled.

"Simon – you know that being a Sentinel is genetic, right?" he waited until the other man nodded, "Well being a Guide is genetic too. Sandburg has the gift and so does Tommy. As for the crap I put Blair through, we've learnt from our mistakes. The children's bond is nothing like ours. And yes, I am worried that Clare will be made to repress her senses if Rachael takes her away."

"We'll just have to fight it, Simon," Blair sighed, "And hope for the best."

From the look on Jim's face there was no doubt that the anxious father was making contingency plans. Simon nodded his acceptance and hoped he'd never have to swear out a warrant to arrest Jim for abducting his own daughter.



Tommy glanced across the playground and stiffened. The lady that had come to Clare's performance was standing outside the schoolyard, looking in at the children playing on their lunch break. Tommy had tried to think why the lady was so familiar that first night, but hadn't been able to place her. It was only when he was fetching Clare's reading book after breakfast that he'd realized the lady was Auntie Rachael. She still looked like the picture Uncle Jim kept of her in Clare's bookcase, although there were a few changes.

"Tommy?" Miki tapped his shoulder and looked over in the direction he was staring. It didn't take her long to spot the stranger in the street, "What are you looking at? Who's the lady?"

Tommy shut the chessboard he was packing up and leaned over to talk to his best friend privately. They had been playing in the shade under one of the big trees in the playground – the spot gave them a good view of the school.

"It's my old Auntie," Tommy frowned, "She gave Uncle Jim and Da Clare and then left – she's sort of Clare's mother."

"How can you sort of be a mother?" Miki asked logically, "You either are or you aren't."

Tommy's frown got deeper and he sat up on his knees to scan the playground equipment where Clare's class usually played. The agile child was hanging by her knees from the bars and swinging, her blond plaits dangling in the air as she held the denim skirt she was wearing up to hide her knickers.

"She didn't want to be a mother so she left – Clare doesn't know her. She's only seen a picture and Auntie Rachael looks different now. She came to Clare's dance last night and scared Uncle Jim," Tommy got up and Miki collected the chessboard. She was frowning too now and followed her friend as he moved across the playground, dodging ball games and running kids as they walked. Anyone who could scare big Detective Jim must be a very bad person.

"Clare!" Tommy called in a low voice as he reached the bars, knowing they were close enough for Miki to think Clare would hear them normally, "Get down from there!"

"Aw Tommy," Clare protested, "I won't fall."

"Auntie Rachael is looking for you," Tommy persisted, ignoring the implied charge of Blessed Protector Syndrome, "You have to get down before she sees you!"

"Who's Auntie Rachael?" Clare sat up on top of the bars and peered around. Tommy bit his lip and swung up onto the equipment with a lithe movement, blocking Clare's view of the street.

"She's…just get down! Hurry – I mean it!" Tommy hissed, "Come on!"

Clare finally picked up the urgency in Tommy's voice and leapt down gracefully. She was surprised when Miki took her hand and started hustling her towards the toilet blocks. Miki didn't have much to do with Clare when they were all together – more a friendly disinterest in the young hanger on than any real dislike. Tommy leapt down and hustled after them, glancing nervously over his shoulder as he did. He steered both girls into the boys' toilets – reasoning that his 'Aunt' wouldn't think to look for them in here.

"Ewww!" both girls clapped a hand to their noses, "What smells?"

Inured to the classic 'boys toilet odor' Tommy rolled his eyes and hustled them all into a cubicle. He locked the door and closed the toilet lid before making Clare sit on it.

"Shh," he whispered, "We'll hide in here until the bell goes and then go to class. Don't go anywhere without me Clare – especially not with Auntie Rachael. No matter what she says."

"Should we call your Da?" Miki asked, looking at the frowning little girl and then back at Tommy, who bit his lip and thought about it. Da had said that the school would call him in an emergency. This was not really an emergency, but Da would probably like to know that Auntie Rachael was hanging around.

"Ok, I'll ask if I can when the bell goes," he nodded and then hushed them when two boys came running in to the toilet.



It was Blair's turn to pick the children up, and seeing as Jim was looking more and more tired as the day went on both men left the station early. Blair was restless in the car, tapping on the steering wheel and fidgeting at the lights. Jim watched him wearily and finally reached out a hand to rest it on Blair's knee.

"Calm down Chief, I'm ok," he rubbed his thumb in a lazy circle, remembering the way this knee had pained his partner after their plane crash and months long hike back to civilization. Blair glanced over at him vaguely and then accelerated through the intersection, taking the turning that would lead to the school. Jim was a little surprised and then worried when the touch failed to calm Blair – touch was the most important connection they had and Jim was even gathering data for a chapter in what he mentally called the 'Guide Handbook'.

"Can you see them?" Blair asked as the school came into sight. Despite the fact that they'd left early traffic had been heavy enough to delay them – so they arrived at the usual time. Children waited under the supervision of the teachers by the gate as parents pulled up along the drive to collect their children. Thinking that maybe Blair was picking up some Shaman vibes, Jim stretched his sight obediently and saw an unusual sight.

"All of Tommy's friends are standing in a row, arms linked together. Tommy and Clare are standing behind them. It's like a football scrum out there," Jim reported. He saw Miki spot the car and turn her head and watched his nephew pick up his bag and Clare's as well, speaking to her hurriedly.

Blair pulled in and Miki ran forward to open the door. The moment the door was open Tommy's friends hustled forward, escorting Tommy and Clare down the steps and into the car. Tommy fussed with Clare's seatbelt while Blair called his thanks to the children and accelerated smoothly away.

"What's going on?" Jim asked, turning his head to look into the back seat. Clare looked solemn and a little scared and Tommy looked angry.

"Auntie Rachael was hanging around the school at lunchtime. And she tried to pick Clare up from her room after school. My friends agreed to help me watch her until you came," Tommy put his own belt on and bit his lip. Blair glanced at his son in the mirror and offered him a smile.

"Why didn't the school call us?" Jim fumed, fumbling for his phone. Clare had her head down, picking at the hem of her skirt.

"The teachers didn't know – she just sneaked in there and I asked if I could call you after lunch but Miss Paterson said no. I couldn't explain it properly," Tommy sighed, "It's hard work being a big brother."

"You did a fantastic job, didn't he Jim," Blair reached over and took the phone away, disconnecting it. Jim needed to check that Clare was ok before he rang the school and started shouting. He got a mutinous look and then Jim turned his head and extended his senses in the 'hug' technique that Blair had made up for him. His senses enfolded his daughter in a net – essentially taking a picture of her. He absently noted that she'd need new socks because the current pair was wearing thin at the left heel, and that she'd been exerting herself in the playground and would need a bath before she went to sleep.

Blair handed the phone back to a much calmer father and turned for home, keeping an eye on the rear view mirror as he did to see if they were being followed. Blair's own phone rang as they traveled along one of the main roads and he pulled it out and tossed it into the backseat for his son to answer. Jim glanced up from his urgent conversation but didn't hang up yet.

"Sandburg," Tommy piped in a clear voice, "Hello Uncle Simon. Da is busy driving and Uncle Jim is on the phone. Umm, hang on. Da? Are we headed for home?"

"Yes we are. Does Uncle Simon want us to come to the station?" Blair asked and Jim muttered a quick apology into the phone before turning his head to tune into the conversation. Tommy relayed the question and Jim shook his head at Blair as Simon answered the question, returning to his own cell phone conversation.

"No, he says he'll meet us at home. He says it's important that we stay there and wait for him," Tommy reported and then hung up when Simon said goodbye. He tucked the phone into his school bag for safekeeping and looked out the window. Clare worried at her bottom lip and stared down at her knees – never a good idea for a young child in a moving car but even worse for a Sentinel prone to travel sickness. Tommy reached over absently and tapped her shoulder, pointing to her own window when she looked up. Clare sighed but looked out obediently.

Jim's call finished as they pulled up and he was first out of the car, scanning the area with his senses while Blair stood with one foot still in the car. Nodding that it was clear, Jim shepherded them all across the road and into the building.

Larry greeted them happily at the door and was petted by the children and then fed by Blair while his family packed away their bags, coats and (in Jim's case) weapons. The children went to Jim's table for their after school snack, and Blair also made Jim eat something in order to take an aspirin to help with the pain from his incision. Clare was unusually silent, and kept glancing at the photo on her bookshelf under the stairs while she finished her snack. Jim waited until his brother had finished tidying the kitchen before taking the photo down and calling his daughter over to sit on the couch with him. Blair gathered Tommy up and sat on the loveseat after Jim shot him an appealing look.

"Clare," Jim began, watching his daughter snuggle into his good side, "I know this is confusing…"

"Auntie Rachael is my mom, isn't she?" Clare interrupted, "I heard Tommy talking."

Jim glanced over at his nephew and smiled in reassurance before returning his attention to the blond child in his lap. He pressed a kiss into her hair and tilted the photo so she could touch it. Feeling Blair's approval from the other couch Jim nodded and stroked her back while she thought about it.

"What…why is she here? Will…what does she want?" Clare looked up at the loving face above hers, leaning into the kiss that was dropped on her forehead, "Why didn't she want me?"

"Oh baby," Jim breathed, painful tears clogging his throat for a moment, "You know Daddy loves you, and Uncle Blair too. We always want you – no matter what."

"But why didn't she? Everyone else has a mom," the little girl bit her lip. Jim rocked as best he could and looked to his brother for help. Tommy had wound himself around his father, forced to face his own mother's 'abandonment' of him. The curly haired man was rocking gently; his gaze fixed on the middle distance. His hands moved constantly, stroking in love and reassurance – speaking in touch.

"Auntie Rachael wasn't ready to be a mom when you were born. She had a husband already and a whole different life. Your Daddy loved her while they were making you, but she just couldn't keep you baby, so your Daddy did. We always wanted you and we'll always love you. You know that, right?" his voice was kind of distant too, but the tone was exactly what Clare needed to hear to get past the worst of the self-doubt. She nodded and sniffled a little into Jim's neck. Larry came to snuggle with his favorite adult, burying his face in Blair's neck and making funny little crooning noises.

Simon's unique scent signature teased Jim's nose and he let his boss use the key they'd given him so long ago when Blair had first moved in and worried that Jim could zone and be unable to get to help. Simon would have some more news for them – something that would allow them to define the threat that Rachael presented more clearly.



Simon bit his lip at the sight that greeted him as he stepped through the door. Both parents hanging on to upset children, soothing and loving as best as they could. Neither man acknowledged his entrance, though Simon knew that Jim at least was aware of his presence.

Simon locked the door, hung up his coat, and went to sit in the yellow chair. Blair lifted his head from Tommy's curls and smiled at him, then kissed his son and whispered something in Tommy's ear. Tommy sat up a little and looked over at his uncle. The boy was clinging like he used to in the early days of their acquaintance, his arms around his father's waist and his body pressed against Blair's warmth. The furry lump that was Larry crawled into Tommy's lap and the boy detached one hand to stroke to soft fur.

"Hello Uncle Simon," Tommy said in a muted tone. Simon smiled at him and got out of his chair to sit on the couch with them both, putting his arm around his adopted kin.

"Hey there kiddo," Simon rumbled, watching Blair smooth his son's face with loving fingers, "You ok?"

Tommy nodded and leaned into his father again. Blair nodded too when Simon looked over at him. In a flash, Simon got it – Tommy was dealing with his own lack of a mother just as Clare was finding hers. Simon petted the boy in sympathy, unable to imagine the pain he felt.

"Are you staying for dinner Simon?" Blair asked in a normal tone, trying to restore some everyday life to their situation, "I think William's coming over tonight as well."

"Uh, sure," Simon nodded, "Daryl's still here so Moira won't miss me if I stay. I'll give her a call – do you still have that terminal?"

Moira was deaf, and therefore used a terminal hooked to her phone to have conversations with her callers. Since the twins had been born, Simon's visits to the loft had decreased – it was easier for the Sandburg-Ellison family to visit him. Blair nodded and Simon went to call his wife. When he'd hung up he turned to frown at Jim and Clare.

"Uh, Sandburg…" Simon pointed and Blair nodded.

"Yeah they zoned just before you came in," he confirmed in a tired voice, ignoring Tommy's exclamation of alarm, "I was hoping they'd come back out by themselves."

"I didn't notice?" Tommy's voice was anxious and Blair smiled down at his son, ruffling the short curls and patting a tearstained cheek.

"Who says you had to? It's safe here and a little zone won't hurt them," he told his son affectionately, "Go wash your face for me sweetie. I'll send Clare in to you in a minute."

Tommy got down obediently, with Larry clinging to his shoulder. Boy and ape disappeared into the bathroom and Blair got up, moving to kneel in front of his Sentinel's. His voice reached out and soothed them, even as his hands stroked their heads, leaving his scent behind for them to follow. He knew better than to try and pull Clare away from Jim – in this state the senior Sentinel would react forcefully to a perceived threat to his child. Clare responded first – she had been lulled by the slowing of Jim's heart as he zoned on her – stirring and turning into the stroking hand, opening her eyes and blinking down at her uncle then looking up at her father. The movement of Clare reached through with Blair's voice to bring Jim out of it and he took a deep breath, wincing when the stitches pulled a little and Clare leant into the wrong place. Skillful hands took Clare away and sent her to wash her face and hands with Tommy, then the soothing contact of his Guide's warm body and strong arms urged him to lie down. Soft surface below, warm weight above, the scent of a fellow protector near by and Jim went off to sleep peacefully.

Simon watched Blair recall Clare with his hand and voice. The little girl's wiggle and bounce made her father stiffen in pain, but she was too groggy to notice properly. She toddled off to wash her own face and hands, and then Jim fell forward into Blair's embrace. The curly haired man caught him easily enough and Simon hastened forward to help, draping the afghan over his best detective as the exhausted man went to sleep.

"I think we'll order in," Blair looked worried for a moment, then smiled as the children emerged from the bathroom, "What do you say guys? Pizza?"

"Yeah!" Tommy nodded and went to fetch the cordless phone while Clare hurried to the fridge to retrieve the menu for Simon's perusal. This was a rare treat for the children – Jim's addiction to Wonder Burger had pretty much been cured when Clare came along, he wanted his daughter to grow up healthy and strong, which meant a healthy diet.

Simon fell into the spirit of things easily enough – his news would have to wait until the children were in bed now and until Jim woke up. He sat at the table with the children while they pulled out their homework and Blair sat on the coffee table, near his Sentinel. Jim woke when the pizza arrived and managed his share of the food, though he went back to sleep again while Blair and the children cleaned up. Simon sat on the loveseat nearby and watched TV with his nephew and niece while Blair moved around the home, seeing to little chores and playing with Larry. Clare kissed her sleeping father happily enough and toddled off to bed for a goodnight story with Simon, Tommy followed not long after. Blair switched the white noise generator in Clare's room on and then gestured for Simon to sit on the coffee table. He sat on the floor by Jim's head and smiled up at his boss before waking his brother gently.

"Hey big guy – you conked out on us," Blair's voice was very gentle and slightly amused. Jim sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face before turning his head to look up at his boss too. Simon understood that the Sentinel was too drained to get up, and decided to keep his briefing short.

"What have you got for us, Simon," Jim's voice was low and Simon sighed.

"Sandburg's foray into cyberspace, coupled with his queries about George Jackson raised some flags with our colleagues. They contacted me this afternoon wondering if we'd seen the grieving widow. Apparently there's some question as to the actual cause of George's injuries. They feel that his wife may not be telling the whole truth," Simon rubbed his brow, "They're gonna send us a man to talk to her. They asked her to stay local but obviously…"

Jim grit his teeth and sat up, pushing the afghan aside. He couldn't stand because Blair was somehow tangled in his legs.

"Great – my daughter's being stalked by her murdering mother. Why couldn't my damn appendix have burst last year when I fell down those stairs?" he growled, "Chief – pack your gear. We're taking the kids and…"

"Woah, big guy! Blessed Protector strikes again! We're not taking the kids anywhere. We have the hometown advantage and our entire support network is here so just chill. We can keep them out of school for a few days if you like, but we stay in Cascade. You're in no condition to go on the run and if we relocate now Rachael may well go underground and that won't solve our problem."

"He's right, Jim," Simon backed the Guide up, "We can't help you if you're not here. I've already got an extra patrol running by the loft and one lined up for the school…"

"School's out until this is over," Jim vetoed that idea with a growl, "Tommy too – I'm not taking any risks."

"Ok," Blair conceded, "I can keep them up to speed with their school work anyway. Simon, can we finish this tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Simon got up, seeing the tremors in Jim's clenched hands, "I'll come by after ten – that detective should be here by then and he'll want a word with the two of you anyway. Get some rest Jim."

There was no response, but Simon wasn't really expecting one anyway. Blair let their boss out and locked up carefully before turning to the task of getting Jim ready for bed.



The 'holiday' from school was a novel enough idea that both children were happy to sit at the kitchen table and work through the exercises that Blair prepared for them. Knowing they'd have guests some time after ten, Blair planned to have their 'recess' when Simon and the Detective from Chicago arrived. He'd already cued a video in his machine ready to go, and moved the white noise generator into the corridor to form a sound barrier between the two groups.

Larry was happy to settle in Blair's part of the house for the day – now being called the schoolroom – Jim's little joke over breakfast that stuck. Jim slept on the couch in his living room at Blair's insistence – sleep being a natural aid to rapid healing. Some instinct told Simon to knock on Blair's door and he let his boss in, eyeing the wiry man with spiky blond hair and crumpled clothes that followed his boss.

"Hey, Captain," the formality sounded weird to say the least coming from Blair in his own home. Simon swallowed his surprise and nodded hello.

"This is Detective Kowalski," Simon introduced the man, "Detective, this is Dr. Sandburg. He's the lead consultant and profiler for the PD, and Ellison's partner."

"Hi," Kowalski looked around, intelligence burning in his keen eyes, "Call me Stan."

"Blair," the curly haired man locked the door and took coats to hang while the children looked over from the table and Larry chattered softly.

"Isn't it a little unusual to be partnered with family?" Stan looked back over at Simon; "The non-frat rules don't apply out here?"

"Ellison and Sandburg are a special case," Simon replied stiffly. Blair gave their visitor a half grin and looked over at his children.

"Ok, you two," he called, "You can watch the video now. Tommy, there's a snack in the kitchen for the three of you – but don't let Larry have too much sugar ok?"

"Sure Da," Tommy nodded and walked into the kitchen while Clare bounced over to the couch. Stan followed them into the corridor, past the white noise generators and sat on a chair at the dining table with Simon while Blair woke his partner with sub vocal words of encouragement. He helped straighten Jim's hair and clothes before he got up, shadowing the unsteady steps to the table and supervising the careful lowering onto a wooden chair. Stan Kowalski paid no attention to this, tactfully 'missing' the other man's illness. Introductions were made while Blair made coffee and the four men pulled their files out.

"Ok," Kowalski nodded, "Right, Rachael Collins. This broad is one weird lady – and cool as a cucumber. We turn up to inform her of the death and she has a convenient bout of hysterics that effectively prevents us from asking her the usual questions and then when she's recovered the next day she'll only see us in the presence of her close personal attorney. She's all black clothes and glistening eyes, but my partner Benny thought that might have been artificial tears – did you know they put stuff in actors' eyes to make them cry? Yuck."

Simon was grinning broadly and Blair shot him a dirty look. This guy didn't sound anything like him dammit! Simon rolled his eyes at the look and caught the frown on Jim's face, getting it under control quickly. The Sentinel's sense of humor would be pretty much MIA for the duration of this particular crisis.

"Did she give any indication that she was coming to see her daughter?" Blair asked, flipping through the preliminary interview. Kowalski shook his head.

"We didn't even know she had one," he confessed, "What's the deal with that?"

"I didn't know she was married when we were together. The birth control failed on us, and she found out she was pregnant after Sandburg and I went missing for three months. When we got back she'd gone to join her husband in Chicago. They contacted me and offered me the choice of taking the baby or letting them put it up for adoption. I signed a full and sole custody agreement with their lawyer – there was supposed to be zero contact between us and them," Jim's voice was totally expressionless and Kowalski frowned.

"That's harsh," he muttered, "First she lied and then she dumped it."

"I will not give up my daughter," Jim growled forcefully.

"Easy big guy," Blair put a hand on Jim's arm immediately, "Kowalski meant Rachael not you."

"Hell yeah – there's no way I'd ever give up on my kid. My parents would kill me for one, and Benny would guilt me for the rest of my life," Kowalski grinned, "Of course, I've not been in your boat, Detective. Just a roll of the dice, right?"

"Yeah," Jim sighed, "What about cause of death? Where are you on that? Our ME said the reported injuries were crippling – he probably couldn't have got up off the ground to get in the car to drive, and there's no way they could have been sustained in the car."

"We had another good look at the body – hell it's still in the damn morgue; she's made no claim to it, not even to bury the poor sap. Our guys think he was pushed off a high platform, then dragged into the car. There are no bloodstains on the passenger seat or trunk of the car, so he wasn't repositioned at all, but we didn't find him in a built up area. Benny noted some weird compression effect and that the car seat was too far back. We think she might have sat on his lap – yuck – to drive him there and then got out and caught a bus or taxi back. That means she was wearing a protective overall of some kind. We're still looking for it in the area," Kowalski pointed to the relevant information and then sat back. Blair refilled his coffee and glanced at the corridor. Jim nodded to him and Blair sat back down. If Simon saw anything unusual in this little exchange he made no mention of it, so Kowalski kept his eyes on the files and wondered. Something about these two was familiar…

"Are you planning to arrest Rachael?" Blair asked as he sipped his coffee. Kowalski shook his head.

"No, we haven't got nearly enough on her to arrest her – lets just say my Lieutenant thought I could use a holiday and told me about the hospitality in Cascade," the rumpled man grinned, "So far the coffee has been first rate."

"Yeah, we're well known for our coffee. Maybe after you've had a chance to relax we can take you on a tour of the better coffee places in the city," Jim's face and voice were totally serious as he said this, not looking up from his file. Kowalski gaped at the man and Blair lost it, laughing hard. He laughed harder at the little smile that Jim didn't quite manage to repress and Kowalski joined in with the joyful sound while Simon sighed and rolled his eyes. Maybe things were going to be ok after all.



Rachael was easy to find – she'd registered in the Hilton under her own name – in one of the better suites. The sheer opulence of the place was a stark contrast to the simple and homey comforts of the loft – one that wasn't lost on Blair and Simon as they crossed the lobby on their way in. Kowalski slouched along beside the two men, seeming as perfectly at home there as Blair was. Simon's suit looked odd beside the two casually dressed men as they used the lift to head for the top floors.

"So what's the coffee like here?" Stan grinned at Blair, who chuckled lightly and glanced over at Simon.

"Expensive," Simon replied firmly, "We wouldn't want to blow your holiday budget."

That earned him more chuckles and Simon hid his own smile as a relaxed Sandburg stepped lightly from the elevator. Ever since Galileo, the anthropologist had tensed up when travelling in tall buildings. A glance at the signs on the wall told them where to go and Simon led the way. Their strategy session at the loft had come to the conclusion that they needed more information from the lady in question, and Stan had been all for just going over and asking for it. Simon had pointed out that Kowalski was out of his jurisdiction, so Jim had stepped in, stating quite calmly that he wasn't. This had earned him a dressing down from the resident Shaman and a firm hand back to the couch. The units outside had been informed that Blair and Simon were going out and that Jim would be alone in the loft with the children.

Rachael's suite was facing a view of the bay and at the far end of the hotel, so it took a few minutes of wandering through the seemingly endless hotel corridors to reach her suite. Polite tapping at the door had no result, and the slightly louder knock that Simon used did not work either.

"Either of you hear any movement in there?" Simon asked, meeting Sandburg's eye with a resigned expression. Jim's hearing would have been very useful in this situation. Blair grinned ironically and shook his head. Stan actually went so far as to put his ear to the door before reporting a total lack of sound in the room. Simon was about to suggest they called in house security and got them to open the door, or at least check if anyone in the hotel had seen Rachael lately when Stan's phone went off loudly in his pocket.

"Excuse me," he grinned helplessly and hauled the offending piece of technology out, "Kowalski. Hey Benny, what's up? You did? When was this? Oh, well, pass it on to Thatcher – that's what she's paid for. Tell her the whole thing and then let her decide what to pass on. Yeah, I guess. Hey did Frannie get those files for you? Yeah, sorry about that. Great, what did they come up with? I _know_ you're not Benny, but you are my partner…yeah well take your hat off then, but just read them, ok? Uh huh. Ok thanks. No, she's out here after her daughter – got a local detective into trouble and then dumped the kid. It's a possible motive though; so keep it under your hat unless Walsh asks for it. Thanks, Benny. Say hi to Dief for me. Will do."

Kowalski hung up and drifted back over to Simon and Blair. Blair, he noticed, was looking a little pinched. Wondering if the man was feeling all right, Kowalski gestured with his phone before putting it away.

"That was my partner in Chicago," he told both men, "He was contacted by a financial advisor in Canada, who wanted the Consulate to check on his former lover, Rachael Collins. Apparently she asked him to set up a trust fund for someone called Clare Collins. She must have meant it for Clare Ellison. She sent the paperwork back to him but he had a question for her and couldn't contact her. Instead of calling the PD he called the Consulate."

"Consulate?" Simon frowned and Kowalski realized he'd have to explain a little better than that. Blair was standing unusually still and tense, but Simon was distracted by the confusion of Stan's tale.

"The Canadian Consulate. My partner's a Mountie. He came to Chicago in pursuit of his father's killers and for reasons that needn't be entered into remained attached to the Consulate there as a liaison with the Chicago PD," Stan's recitation had the air of something he'd said or heard often. Simon grinned a little at that – it sounded as unorthodox as Blair's advent into their lives. He was about to speak when Blair paled, gasped and doubled over, clutching his head in pain. Simon and Stan both grabbed him, steadying the smaller man.

"She's at the loft," Blair moaned and staggered free, listing to the side as he hurried back towards the lift as fast as unsteady legs would take him. Stan gaped as Simon yanked his own phone out and called the loft, hurrying to keep pace with the Shaman as he nearly ran through the corridors and bounced off the closed doors of the lift. Blair growled low in his throat and headed for the fire stairs, unwilling to wait for the lift to travel it's stately way up the shaft.

"Sandburg, wait!" Simon yelled helplessly as Blair careened down the stairs two at a time, gasping for air and barely in control of his descent. Stan followed, saving his breath for running and swallowing all the questions swirling through his brain. Simon swore and hung up when the machine picked up, dialing dispatch instead and shouting instructions to be patched through to the men in the unit outside the loft. He called in the intruder and hung up as they hit the ground floor. Blair burst through the lobby, running like a demon for the car, scattering people in his wake.



There was an ambulance outside the loft when they pulled up and Simon cursed under his breath as Blair leapt from the still moving vehicle to race inside. Not even bothering to switch off the engine, Simon followed, shadowing the Shaman up the stairs and into the joined loft. Jim was on the floor, bleeding from a cut to the head and the torn incision that had barely begun to heal. They were sliding him onto the backboard as Blair dropped to his knees beside his injured brother. Trembling fingers checked for life and reason and found both. Jim was unconscious not zoned, and had been struck from behind.

"He was coming back from the bathroom," Blair tossed the comment over his shoulder to Simon, "He's unconscious."

The paramedics knew better than to interfere as Blair checked their patient over again and repeated their own conclusions. These two men had something of a reputation when it came to the cities emergency services. Standard procedure was to let them do what they had to so the paramedics could do what they had to later. Blair nodded to the two medics and got up, hurrying to his own loft. Larry was shrieking from Tommy's bedroom, but the Shaman left the ape where it was for now, wanting to concentrate on the scene. The white noise generators had still been working when he walked past them, explaining why Clare hadn't noticed the intruder initially and why Jim hadn't sensed her either. The older Sentinel was always at a disadvantage when he was ill, his senses tended to shut down a little to limit input that he couldn't handle.

"Anything?" Simon asked tensely from the corridor, knowing better than to distract the other man when he got that particular look on his face. Blair moved surely from the front door to the fire escape exit in the kitchen, disappearing down the metal framework without a word, making Simon exclaim and hurry after him. The two uniformed cops who'd been stationed outside looked over at Kowalski.

"You'd better go after them, pal," the older one called, "I've seen that look before – Sandburg's on the hunt. We'll go to the hospital with Ellison – tell the Captain that."

Stan nodded and ran out the door after the other two men, reflecting that the two cops had better do a better job of guarding Ellison at the hospital than they had in his home. He spotted Simon at the end of the alley and ran to catch up. The taller man caught his arm, shaking his head and holding up a finger for silence. Blair was standing in the mouth of the alley, his head turning from side to side. There was something feral about his stance, you almost expected him to throw back his head and howl.

Then he grunted and started running. Simon jerked his thumb at Kowalski, pulling his phone out as he did.

"Give me your phone. Go get the car and call your phone when you're in it. I'll give you directions," Simon said in a hurry, snatched the proffered phone and ran after his tribe's Shaman. In this mood Sandburg was dangerous – if he caught up to Rachael there would be violence. Simon had seen this expression on his face when the children had been taken by some of the Chopec at the direction of their Shaman. Only that time, Jim had been there too, operating on instinct and emotion. Now Jim was in the hospital and any calming influence he might have had on this version of Sandburg was no longer available.

"Sandburg," Simon puffed as he struggled to keep up with the other man, "Slow down. You'll never catch her car on foot."

Running was Blair's preferred form of fitness training – he continued to be Moira's running mate twice a week, though Simon was pretty sure he ran long distances daily. Simon knew for a fact that on the days Jim drove the children to school, Blair ran to the station and then showered in the locker room. The curly haired man had the build of a runner, whipcord over bone that converted to astonishing strength when it was called for. Simon would never be able to keep up with the man if he decided to really take off, which was why he'd sent Kowalski for the car.

"Not in a car," the growl floated back over Blair's shoulder, no sign of breathlessness in his voice, "On foot. The children are running."

Simon felt a flash of relief – there was still a chance the children would come out of this ok. The phone in his hand rang and Simon answered it with his customary bark, huffing directions over the open line and struggling to keep up with Blair at the same time. Two blocks later Kowalski jumped out of the car and ran past Simon to back Blair up. The crumpled man matched the Shaman's pace easily, despite the fact that neither was dressed for running.

"Where do you think they're headed?" he asked the hunter, blinking in surprise as deep blue eyes speared him with a glance, apparently seeing him right down to his soul and back again.

"Tommy will take her to the forest in the sky," the answer made no sense to Kowalski, who put his phone to his mouth and asked Simon if the reference made any sense to the older man.

"Crap," Simon growled, "Yeah that makes sense. We're only about four blocks away. I'll call for backup and see you there. Stick with him Kowalski – Sandburg doesn't carry a gun."

"You got it," Kowalski nodded and shoved the phone into his pocket again. As he followed the twisting path through the alleys and back paths of the city, he wondered how Sandburg had known of the attack and what trail he was following at the moment. The years with Benny had taught him a little about tracking, though he'd never be able to match the Mountie's skill at the art.

Feeling that he was missing something very important about this whole case, Stan rounded the next corner just behind Sandburg and couldn't stop the startled exclamation as Sandburg accelerated smoothly away from him. Stan was at his almost top speed and beginning to feel it as his breath came in harsh pants. He watched in astonishment as the other man ran forward, leaping over several rubbish bins before launching himself around the corner at the end.

By the time Simon arrived Rachael Collins-Jackson was in cuffs. She was cowering against Kowalski and pleading with him not to let the wolf-man get her. Kowalski's face showed his disgust as she confessed to the attack at the loft and the murder of her husband as insurance against being given over to 'that creature'. There was no sign of Blair as Kowalski handed her over to Simon who read the Miranda again just in case. She waived her right to a lawyer and Simon called for a unit to transport her to the precinct.

"Where's Sandburg?" Simon asked the panting man. He pointed in reply towards a dilapidated building with an overgrown greenhouse on the roof. It was a few blocks away still and Simon nodded.

"Once we get her taken care of I'll go get them. You want to go in to the station with her?" Simon refused to look at their prisoner and Kowalski nodded, realizing that whatever was going on was a secret that the tall Captain intended to keep.



Blair slipped into the humid glass tent with little noise. For a moment memories assaulted him – going with Jim to find the remains of Incacha's camp and helping his grieving Sentinel pack the meager possessions away for return to the tribe. The warriors would return home the way they had come – but Incacha's possessions were abandoned for Jim to take care of.

Memory quieted as the ghosts slipped away and Blair moved gently deeper into the rioting vegetation. The scents here were strong, even to his nose, and he found a warm patch of sunlight to sit in. He could feel the children's presence like an electric current along his skin. Settling himself so he was comfortable, Blair waited quietly.

Clare would have detected his presence when the door squeaked open. Tommy would have her using her fledgling abilities to locate him and then identify him. Once they knew he was there the children would come to him – it saved him calling and startling them.

The running he had done had left Blair in quite a sweat – his natural scent intensified by the exertion. He concentrated on calming his heart beat to its normal range, determined to make the work easier for Clare. The children would know it was safe to come out – there was no way he'd lead danger to them and they knew that instinctively. When Clare was convinced, Tommy would be and they'd emerge.

A soft rustle announced the children's first movement and Blair opened his eyes with a smile. Clare sobbed suddenly and threw herself out of hiding into his lap, arms and legs wrapping around him with desperate young strength. Blair freed an arm to hold it out to his son. Tommy sank onto the ground beside his father and burrowed in to the offered comfort.

"Shh, kitten," Blair murmured over Clare's sobs, "It's all right now. I've got you. I've got you both."

"Da…is Uncle Jim ok?" Tommy's face was twisted with strain and Blair kissed his son lovingly before hauling him tighter into his side. He was so proud of his son he couldn't find the words for a minute.

"Yes," Blair replied, "He's had to go back to hospital, but he'll be just fine. And this time we'll make him stay until the doctors say he can come home, right?"

"Right," Tommy buried his face in Blair's sweaty neck and hung on as tightly as his Sentinel was doing. Clare's sobs had slowed a little and Blair rocked both children in his arms, kissing Tommy's curls and petting Clare's back tenderly.

"I want mum-mum," Clare wailed suddenly and Blair tightened his grip. She was frightened and confused by all the conflict, hence the regression to babyhood. Chances were that she wouldn't settle completely until she was able to touch and scent her father for herself – remaking the most elemental contact a Sentinel could experience.

"Hush kitten – mum-mum is ok. I promise," he crooned, "Uncle Simon will be here soon and we'll go see Daddy, ok? You just need to hang on for a little longer."

Clare's sobs faded to odd little hiccups and hitches in her breath as Tommy added his efforts to his father's, stroking her hair lightly. There was little doubt that one of the children had seen the attack on Jim and alerted the other – though Blair suspected that if Clare had seen Jim struck down she wouldn't have left him no matter what the danger to Tommy was. The bond between father and daughter was stronger than the one she was building with her Guide and would remain so until Blair allowed Tommy to take full responsibility for his Sentinel.

The tension radiating from Tommy reinforced Blair's deductions and Blair tightened his grip on his son. Despite the fact that he was breathing rhythmically and stroking Clare's hair to calm her, tears were pouring down Tommy's face in an effort to relieve the stress and fear he had been operating under. Blair nuzzled his son's temple and rumbled a little in his throat – a deep comforting noise that had Tommy slumping against him heavily. There was a soft knocking noise on the door that had both children tensing but Blair just smiled and called for Simon to come in. The tall man joined them on the floor, adding his arms to the embrace and helping Blair soothe the children back to calmness.

After a short while Tommy let his uncle draw him away so Blair could get up with Clare in his arms. The wistful expression on Tommy's face had Simon swinging the child up into his arms as well, though the boy had long since declared himself 'too old to be carried like a baby'. Simon's instinct proved true as Tommy wound his arms around the big man's neck and buried his face in them.

The walk to the car was quiet and all three family members climbed in the back, Blair in the middle with his arms around the children. A quick call ahead to the hospital revealed that Jim had arrived and was being treated for concussion and his torn incision. Simon drove slowly, with the idea that by the time they reached the hospital Jim would be close to being transferred to his own room. The ER was no place for the children to wait in their current state and Simon didn't want to have to argue about them waiting in the loft. A second call to the station showed that Rafe and Brown were dealing with Rachael Collins, while Detective Kowalski sat in on the interview. Simon would be very interested to hear what her motives for all this had been.



Jim woke with Clare curled up against his good side and Tommy curled up at his feet. Blair was asleep in the chair next to his bed and sunrise was showing through the open blind in the small room. For a moment Jim just let himself drift, reestablishing the connection between himself and his family, reading in their presence comfort and safety, letting this sensation replace his final conscious moments after being attacked in the loft. After a little while he turned his head to stare at Blair.

True to form, the sleeping Shaman felt his gaze and woke, stretching a little as he leaned forward to tenderly caress Jim's face and smiling at the solemn gaze. His eyes asked if Jim was in any pain, and the Sentinel denied it with a look. He was weak as a kitten, though, and knew he wouldn't be getting out of bed any time soon. The posture of his Guide said that there was no danger to face and Jim let himself drift in the deep blue gaze.

Tommy stirred first, breaking the loving contact between them and Blair reached down to pick his son up off the bed and cradle him close. By the time the child opened his eyes fully he was in his father's lap, being rocked and stroked and hugged. Jim realized that both children were still struggling with recent events and made sure to smile when Tommy looked his way. He couldn't reach out for the boy as his closest arm was wrapped around his daughter, but Tommy didn't seem to mind. The child burrowed into the comfort of his father's body and Jim smiled again at the familiar scene.

Clare stirred a little, responding to the movement in the room, and Jim caressed her hair lightly. Blue eyes so like his own blinked open and searched anxiously for his face. A few tears welled, but she didn't cry, just moved very carefully so she could kiss his face.

"Hey kitten," Jim's voice was weak too, but clear and calm, "Love you."

"Love you too, Daddy," Clare replied firmly, "And I don't want to go with my mother. I want to stay with you. She's mean and she scared me."

"You're staying with me," Jim promised and his daughter settled down immediately. Tommy was yet to speak to anyone, and Jim shot the boy a concerned look. His brother didn't seem too worried though, and Jim decided to just let things happen. He was warm and comfortable, and didn't fight it as his body went back to sleep.

Blair smiled at his sleeping partner and held out a hand to Clare. She climbed off the bed obediently and looked at Tommy with curiosity. She'd never seen her big brother this upset and hugged his legs – the closest part she could reach – in an effort to make him feel better. It didn't seem to work, but before she could get upset the door opened and Simon stuck his head in.

"How is he?" Simon came to look at the sleeping man on the bed and pick up his adoptive niece.

"He just went back to sleep," Blair's voice was comfortable, "He's just fine."

"Good," Simon nodded and tweaked Clare's hair; "How about we go get some breakfast then? And Rafe and Brown need to talk to their witness."

Blair nodded and got up, keeping Tommy in his arms. Though the boy was nearly ten he was small for his age – just like his father had been – and Blair had no trouble carrying him. Simon frowned a little at the unusual sight, but chose not to air his concerns. From the stillness of Tommy's body a stranger to the boy would assume he was asleep, but Simon could see his hands were almost white knuckled in their grip. As he had when Simon first met him, Tommy was gripping Blair's shirtfront and collar. His legs were wrapped firmly around his father's body and they'd need a crowbar to break the two apart.

Blair sat in the back again as Simon drove them back to the loft. Larry was still locked in Tommy's room – no one had wanted to face the irate ape, and Clare went to let him out immediately. The animal bounced around the loft shrieking loudly for a few minutes before calming down enough to come to the food that Clare laid out at Blair's direction. Simon made a quick breakfast of toast for them all and then washed Clare's face and hands before helping her strip down and putting her in Tommy's bed.

By now the little girl was shooting worried glances at her big brother, who had yet to speak or let go of his father. Simon sat on the bedside and read her a story from Tommy's animal anthology – the one Blair had bought at the zoo so long ago. When the Captain emerged, Rafe and Brown were hanging up their coats and the white noise generator was shushing on the floor outside Tommy's room.

Both uncles were looking at their adopted nephew in concern as he failed to even look up at their greetings. Simon thought about suggesting they call one of the child psychologists that worked for the PD to assess Tommy, then reconsidered. Blair would be able to break his son's silence, and determine what he needed. Simon could wait until he was asked for the phone number – if Tommy needed it.



"Tommy?" Blair crooned softly, "Uncle Brian and Uncle H are here. They need to talk to you."

Tommy heard the loving voice, but didn't want to move from the comfort of his father's warmth and strength. He felt protected and cherished in his father's arms, and didn't want to give that up. He shook his head a little, trying to tell his father he didn't want to come out and burrowed closer.

"I know, baby," the voice was calm and sympathetic, "I know you were scared. It's safe now; no one here will hurt you. I'm here, I'll protect you."

Tommy sighed and loosened his grip for a moment. Warm hands were rubbing his back and arms as his father rocked them back and forth on the couch. This was a familiar motion, one that Sandburg had used on the very first night he'd met his son, and continued to use when the boy needed comfort or pampering. It spoke to Tommy now, reminding him of the unconditional love his father showered on him every day.

Tommy let go with his legs, and his father immediately adjusted their position, so Tommy was sitting across his lap. A turn of the boy's head would allow him to see his uncles sitting on the other couch, watching with worried eyes, but Tommy wasn't ready to face them yet.

"Da is here. Da loves you. I'm very proud of how brave and smart you were. My wonderful boy," the sentence made no sense, yet it opened a floodgate of emotion as Tommy cried out the stress and fear of watching Rachael Collins strike down his ailing uncle. The warm voice of his father soothed and surrounded him, wrapping him in love. It took a few minutes for the boy to calm down again and he obediently lifted his face for Blair to wash it with the warm cloth that Simon had prepared when the tears started. He resettled his grip on Blair's collar and shirt front, but didn't hide his face again, choosing instead to lean against Da's chest and look over at his uncles, a little shamefaced at crying like a baby in front of them.

"Hey kiddo, feeling better?" Simon breathed, and Tommy nodded, offering a little smile and looking up at his father for reassurance. He got a tender smile and a squeeze.

"Maybe we should come back later – he's obviously not ready to answer any questions," Brown shifted on the couch and Tommy shook his head adamantly. He was brave, not a baby.

"I can do it," he insisted, "You'll stay with me, Da?"

"Promise," Blair nodded and Tommy looked back at Uncle Brian and Uncle H. He licked his lips and took a careful breath.

"After Da and Uncle Simon went with Detective Kowalski to look for Auntie Rachael, I went to see if Uncle Jim was ok. He was asleep, so I went back to sit with Clare and finish watching the video. We were supposed to do some more work after that, but I couldn't find any that Da had left out so I went to see if Uncle Jim would let us come in with him and maybe watch another video," Tommy told them in a clear voice. He was still leaning hard into Blair, who had stopped rocking and was rubbing his son's back gently.

"When I got to the corridor I saw Uncle Jim come out of the bathroom. I was going to step out when Auntie Rachael jumped up from behind the kitchen counter and hit him with the fruit bowl," Tommy's voice wavered and he turned his face into Blair's chest for a moment, a few more tears escaping to run down his cheeks.

"Shh, baby. She can't come back now – she's all locked away, isn't she guys?"

"Yes she is," Simon rumbled in agreement, "It's ok kiddo. You're ok."

"I ran back and put Larry in my room so he wouldn't get hurt," Tommy continued after a moment, his voice a bit stronger than before, "I grabbed Clare's hand and ran down the fire escape. Auntie Rachael saw us going through the door and ran after us. We hid in the next alley and then headed for the police station, but she found us again. Every time we thought she was gone she managed to find us. Clare couldn't concentrate. She was worried about Uncle Jim and I didn't know what to tell her."

The last sentences made sense to Blair and Simon, explaining why the young Sentinel hadn't been able to use her senses to track their enemy and determine when it was safe for them to leave concealment.

"We got to the forest in the sky and then you found us, Da," Tommy's gaze was solemn, but he had finally let go of Blair's collar. Blair smiled and kissed his forehead.

"You were very brave, Tommy," Simon spoke up, "You did everything right."

"I had to take care of Clare," Tommy smiled a little, thinking of his little sister, "It's my job."

"Then you should get a pay rise," Brown chuckled at the confusion on Tommy's face, "Don't tell me you're not paying him, Sandburg! That young man deserves pocket money."

"You're right, H. We'll have to start paying him pocket money," Blair agreed, thinking the distraction of a new idea and the power of being able to shop for himself – an activity that Tommy had never tired of – would divert Tommy from darker thoughts. The boy's nature was not acquisitive; he was very generous with his possessions and time, giving both with a good will. Blair would make sure to explain that the pocket money was being paid because Tommy was wise enough to handle it, not for taking care of Clare, and they could negotiate the amount.

"Pocket money?" Tommy asked and Blair smiled, explaining the idea in a low voice while the uncles tiptoed from the loft, leaving father and son to recover their balance in their own way.



In the end the DA decided to allow Chicago to try Rachael Collins on the murder charges first. The charges of assault and attempted kidnapping were less serious, though she'd probably end up committed to an institution rather than in prison. Her attorney was already making noise about getting her assessed to see if she was even fit to stand trial. No one was impressed.

Forensics had retrieved the key at the loft that Rachael had used to get in. Jim had given her one long before Clare was born and then forgotten to retrieve it once they split up. Blair had collected all they keys they'd ever given out and then changed all the locks, before sitting down with his son and deciding who should be given a new key. The list matched the original keyholders as Tommy discussed who was a safe person with his father. The action had gone some way to alleviating the aftermath of the attack for the little boy – now all he needed was time and the never ending love of his father.

"What I don't get is how the two are connected," Blair confessed to Kowalski at Jim's bedside. The detective from Chicago had accompanied Simon to the hospital to update the detective and Blair had arranged for William Ellison to watch the children for a few hours. They'd come with their Poppy for a visit after Jim's afternoon nap – something that Blair was most militant about.

"It seems that when Rachael discovered she was pregnant she tried to talk old George into passing the baby off as his. But, George-boy didn't want anything to do with a kid that he hadn't made and refused outright. Once they realized it was too late for an abortion George came up with the scheme of contacting Ellison. Seems he was a bit of a bastard and wanted to humiliate you as much as possible. He never expected you to actually agreed to adopt Clare," Stan met Jim's eyes with respect, "You were more honorable than he thought."

"There's nothing honorable in taking responsibility for your actions," Jim shook his head, "Besides, I had a great role model."

The look he shot at Blair made it clear who the role model was and Blair rolled his eyes.

"Go on," he urged Stan who grinned and did as he was ordered, wondering what the full story really was here.

"Well," he shifted to get comfortable, "Rachael carried the baby – and according to the lawyer – bonded with it. After the delivery it was George who cut off all contact between mother and baby. This whole thing brewed in Rachael's mind – because she really didn't want to give the baby up at all, but didn't want to be humiliated by the divorce at the same time. George urged her to forget the whole thing and they tried to have a baby of their own. Then they discovered that Mr. Jackson was shooting blanks and Rachael just… snapped. She pushed him off a bridge, then drove the car down to where his body was, put him in, and sat on him to drive to where we eventually found the car. She had a change of clothes in the trunk and chucked the bloodstained stuff in the bag in the river. Then she came to Cascade to claim her 'prize'."

"Jesus," Jim breathed, his face pale, "If she'd gotten hold of my daughter…"

"She didn't," Blair reminded his Sentinel firmly, "Tommy stopped her, remember?"

"How is he?" Kowalski asked, "I heard he'd had some troubles."

"A few nightmares," Blair sighed, "But they've stopped already and he's ok during the day. Clare helps; she's got this whole big case of hero worship going at the moment. And Tommy's friends have been over for a few visits. They're back at school tomorrow, so with a bit of luck we'll get past this soon."

"Well you tell him from me, that he's one brave kid and if he's ever in Chicago to look me up," Kowalski grinned. Jim chose that moment to yawn and Blair chuckled, swapping a knowing look with Simon. The Captain took the hint and made his excuses, which Kowalski added to as they left the room.

Blair got up and started settling his cranky Sentinel for a nap.

"I can't wait to get out of here," Jim grumbled as his Guide sat on the edge of the bed and traced random patterns over his chest. The action was soothing and despite himself Jim felt his eyes grow heavy.

"If you'd stayed in the first time you wouldn't have put yourself in such a bad way," Blair retorted, "We need you, Jim. No more risks to your health, ok?"

"Yes Dad," Jim's sleepy retort made his Patriarch chuckle and lean over to drop a kiss to his temple. Sleep took him.



**Epilogue**

"Ready, Brown?" Jim asked, shrugging the PD windbreaker on over his vest and settling his cap. The other detective finished checking his weapon and holstered it smoothly.

"Yeah," Brown nodded, "Rafe! Get the lead out!"

"Coming mother," his partner's voice floated sweetly across the bullpen and Brown rolled his eyes. Simon came out of his office, also dressed for the raid and pulled a PD cap on firmly.

"Where's Sandburg?" Jim frowned, looking for his absent partner amongst the hustle of the bullpen. The curly haired man was not in sight, and Jim couldn't remember seeing him in the last ten minutes.

"Maybe he's in his office – I think he was meeting with Charlie Leaven from Vice," Simon turned to head out of the bullpen and almost stumbled at Jim's next question.

"He has an office?"

"Do you even work in the same precinct as the rest of us?" Simon snorted, "Sandburg's had an office since he got the Ph.D. The Chief thought it was more secure than having case files from a dozen departments lying on your desk in the bullpen. Where did you think he went when he was consulting with the other departments?"

Unable to make a proper reply to that, Jim realized that he didn't really think much about Blair's job in the precinct when it came to working with other departments. They were walking rapidly down the corridor now, and Jim could hear his Guide speaking quickly as he moved about.

"I thought he went to them," Jim shrugged, a little embarrassed that he hadn't asked his Guide back when the man started working at the PD full time all those years ago. Simon rolled his eyes and shoved open a door without knocking.

"Sandburg! We're waiting!"

"Coming Simon," Blair finished pulling his hair back and gestured for his visitor to stand. The office was small and full of the typical Sandburg clutter. Maps were pinned to the wall, and photos of various crime scenes and evidence. There was a computer on the desk, and a bunch of framed photos. Tommy and Clare. Jim and Blair. Jim and both children. The whole Ellison family and Tommy at Christmas. Simon and his family. Jim and his Cop of the Year award. Files and books crammed into a single bookcase and overflowed from the top of the filing cabinet. The phone was on the windowsill, next to a canister of tea and an abandoned coffee mug. The blinds were pulled up so sunlight streamed into the room.

Blair led Charlie Leaven down the corridor and into the elevator with the rest of Major Crimes, still speaking rapidly and pointing to things in the profile that Charlie was holding. They got to the third floor and Charlie got off, muttering under his breath and making notes in the margins.

"Jesus Sandburg, did you even draw breath?" Rafe teased the profiler and Blair laughed.

"Breathing is over rated," he told his friends and Jim shivered, remembering the fountain and the damning silence of the beloved heartbeat.

"Not to me it's not – so keep doing it, ok Chief?" Jim's voice had an anxious edge to it and his Guide's hand slid up to Jim's shoulder and squeezed firmly.

"Sounds like a plan to me," the reassurance was spoken with a smile and Jim smiled back, letting their eyes connect for a moment, gathering their strength before the battle.

"Definitely sounds like a plan," he agreed.

**-End-**




	10. AWOL

A W O L

0o0o0

Absent

Blair swept his eyes appraisingly over Jim's face and body. His Sentinel was the picture of health; skin tanned lightly, movements free of pain or strain. His eyes were clear and the famous jaw was unclenched - his mouth was smiling. The well cared for body was relaxed and comfortable…

"Jeeze, now I know how a microscope specimen must feel," Jim joked, snapping the Shaman back to the present, "Did you count my ribs and check my teeth?"

"Hmm," Blair replied, still trying to figure out what was wrong. Jim didn't ask for an adult hour for no good reason. Adult hours were time spent together where the two men discussed any serious problems or concerns they had. The kids were healthy, and apparently so was Jim, so Blair couldn't figure out what it was the other man needed. Their bills weren't excessive and the loft was in good repair as always…

"Chief," Jim chuckled, "Just sit down with me, ok?"

He guided the heavily thinking man to the couch and sat down, pulling his friend onto his lap and wrapping his arms around him. As he'd expected, Blair immediately cuddled up, the touch taking away the tension that had started to build in response to Jim's request, just as Jim had expected it to. His data for the Guide thesis was coming along nicely. Jim snuggled his Guide close and waited for Blair to realise that he was sitting in another man's lap, cuddled up like a child to a teddy. On the balcony outside the first heavy frost gleamed in the streetlight, emphasising the warmth of the loft.

The Shaman had been under some strain lately, what with the aftermath of Rachael Collins and Jim's appendix and several demanding cases. The conference was coming up soon - a month long event that Blair was trying so hard to get out of, despite the fact that the Chief, Captain Banks, the Mayor and his publisher were all trying to get him to commit to attend for the entire month.

Jim remembered the lectures he'd had on Guide care from the Chopec and knew he wasn't living up to his end of the bargain. Blair was pale and tired, though he put up a good front for the children and their colleagues. At night however, when everyone else was asleep, Jim saw the fatigue and wanted to erase it from his friend's face. Over the months he'd had plenty of material to add to his Guide thesis about the power of touch. Since the two men had taken to touching each other even more in private their bond had grown to almost epic proportions. Snuggling on the couch for an hour revitalised Blair for a day - and the kids saw that two adults could touch each other in a loving, non-sexual way without losing any of their 'maleness'.

With Blair's second book being released at the conference - much to his astonishment, he'd intended to publish it the same way he had the first, unheralded and unnoticed - it was important his partner have the time to enjoy the fame and notoriety he'd gain. Blair's work at the PD went largely unacknowledged by the public that he worked for, and colleagues from out of state only knew of him by vague word of mouth. He deserved this - and Jim knew he'd enjoy the positive attention.

The Sentinel was proud of his Shaman Guide and wanted to show the man off to the world and their colleagues. He wanted to be able to say Dr. Blair Sandburg, and have other people's eyes light up with recognition and respect for his partner. Blair sighed and mumbled into Jim's chest and the Sentinel realised the man was going to sleep!

"Hey, Chief," Jim crooned gently, "Stay awake for me for a moment."

"'M up," Blair protested sleepily and Jim chuckled, tangling his fingers in long curls and tugging gently. Blair tipped his head back to meet Jim's eyes. Deciding that Blair was as awake as he was going to get tonight Jim grinned.

"I want you to take Tommy to the conference with you for a month. Both of you could use the time together - and Clare and I can do the father daughter thing here. It's only two weeks of school to miss and then he'd be on school holidays. He can afford to miss two weeks," Jim kept his voice low and soothing.

"Whaa?" Blair blinked and woke up a little more, "It's not a fun place for kids to be Jim…"

"You'd be the main attraction," Jim replied, "And we'd come down in holiday time to join you both. The kids will be happy to see each other again and I can take them for day trips or something. You could make it a project for him - get him to write a paper or something on the way cops interact with each other."

"He's not in Uni yet, Jim," Blair chuckled, snuggling back in, loathe to break the contact, "I'll think about it ok?"

"Ok," Jim nodded; tucking his partner back into his embrace, not ready to let go yet either, "You want to move to bed? If we spend the night on the couch I'll be unable to move in the morning."

Blair sighed and got up reluctantly, unwilling to relinquish the contact with another adult - and one who loved him at that. Both men had found that women willing to commit to the combined family were rare indeed; non existent, in fact.

"I'll be right up," Jim got up too, following Blair to the stairs and walking past them to enter the corridor that led to his part of their loft. Clare was curled up under the covers and Jim grinned down at her, smoothing the tufts of hair that stuck out of the nest she'd made for herself. Satisfied that she was comfortable - his senses saturated in the rhythm and scents of his daughter's sleep - he left her door open a crack and headed back to Blair's bed, tumbling in beside the sleeping man and being instantly attacked by the octopus that Blair turned into in his sleep. Arms and legs twined around him and a shaggy head buried itself in his armpit, snuffling in contentment.

Feeling his heart slow to match his Guide, the Sentinel sighed happily and let sleep claim him.

0o0o0

With

Tommy watched the people in the lobby with wide eyes as his father checked them into the hotel and collected keys and things from the lady behind the counter. The people at this hotel were very different to each other. There were some people like the professors at the University back home - that he'd met when Da took him there on the rare occasions he had time to attend an event at the Uni. There were people like his many aunts and uncles - cops of all different shapes and sizes. There were people like Grandfather - in suits with busy faces, and people like Poppy, who smiled a little more but seemed just as busy. It seemed odd to see all these people gathered in the one place and not be at home.

"Hey sweetie," Da's voice was warm in his ear, "What are you looking at?"

"There sure are a lot of different people here," Tommy commented, "But they're just like our family back home - the cops and the professors and the busy men."

"Business men," Blair was amused and took his son's hand. Neither one of them had grown out of that public display of affection, though Miki wouldn't hold her mother's hand in public any more. They gathered their bags and headed for the room with Blair pointing out signs and directions for Tommy so the child could find their room and the lobby if he ever got separated from his father in the hotel.

Once inside the room - furnished in standard hotel modern - Blair added their room number to the ID card he'd made for his son and handed it over in the canvas wallet that he'd bought for the trip. It was big enough to hold Tommy's spending money, his id card and a couple of family photos. Tommy was excited at the idea of carrying a 'grown up' wallet and Blair knew his son would carry it with him whenever they left the room. It had all the emergency information and contact details for the family as well - just in case. Despite the protests Blair made when Jim called him a trouble magnet in his heart of hearts he thought there might be a kernel of truth in the idea. The Shaman attracted danger and the Sentinel banished it - the system worked well.

The two men freshened up and changed into clothes that weren't rumpled with aeroplane travel and then headed back down to sign in for the evening 'meet and greet' dinner.

"Are we having rubber chicken?" Tommy asked the man at the sign in desk as his father pinned his badge onto his t-shirt and Blair had burst into startled laughter, wondering which member of the family had described the first night as a rubber chicken banquet. The man behind the table had given Blair a slightly quelling look, which had made Blair laugh even harder as he took his son away.

"No, it won't be rubber chicken," Blair reassured his son, "We'll have normal food to eat. There'll also be a few speeches, so we'll have to be quiet at dinner, ok? You can whisper to me."

Dinner in the Sandburg-Ellison household wasn't a riot, but neither was it silent. The children told the family about their day and the family discussed plans for the weekend and shopping together, as well as the upcoming schedule for work and babysitters. William Ellison sat regularly for the children, especially if Jim and Blair were on night shift. Daryl Banks was no longer in town to take the day shift, though he kept in contact with his cousins through email.

"Ok," Tommy nodded and followed Da into the dining room. Everyone in there was wearing name badges and Tommy took careful note of them, checking to see if the ids were like his and Da's. A bad man called Quinn had once tried to fool Tommy with a fake id, and only his careful scrutiny had saved the boy from being kidnapped.

Lots of people looked at him strangely and Tommy stuck close to Da's side, holding his hand while he peered around the room. His face lit up in recognition as he spotted someone he knew and he tugged his father's hand.

"Look, Da!" he pointed, "It's Detective Scruffy!"

Unfortunately Tommy's voice was just the right pitch to carry clearly and everyone turned to look at the child and then the man he was pointing too.

"Detective Kowalski," Blair corrected firmly, "We need to use people's proper names, Tommy."

Kowalski was headed over, grinning hard at the blush on Blair's face. He was still scruffy, it looked like he hadn't changed from the plane ride at all, and he didn't seem to mind the appellation.

"Sorry Detective," Tommy said in a clear voice and Stan shrugged it off, glancing at his partner in amusement. The red serge was something of an eye catcher, as was the tall well-built physique of the Mountie.

"That's all right Squirt," Stan grinned, "I am a bit scruffy at the moment. I hate flying."

"I love it," Tommy riposted, and started chattering to the detective about all the things you could do on a plane to pass the time. There was a long list as Blair was very imaginative when travelling with his children.

"Blair Sandburg," he introduced himself to the silent Mountie. His hand was taken in a strong grip. It was almost familiar, but Blair shrugged that thought off easily - they were here for a conference, not a mystery.

"Constable Benton Fraser," the deep voice was pleasant, as was the accompanying shy smile, "Ray is not known for his social graces."

"I heard that!" Stan protested his head snapping up to glare, "You'd better be talking about Vecchio!"

Tommy giggled - it was the exact same glare uncle Jim gave Da when they were teasing each other. Blair winked at his son and kept a straight face. Fraser refused to reply and dinner was called before the argument could escalate.

"Come and sit with us!" Tommy urged, "You can tell us about Chicago and the Territories. Did you spend time with the Inuit Mr Mountie?"

"Constable," Benton corrected, "Yes I have spent time with them. Not many American children would associate them with the Territories Master…"

"Tommy," the child introduced himself, "Da's an anthropologist. He's teaching me about people from all over the world. He also catches criminals with my Uncles."

"Bounty Hunter?" Fraser straightened in surprise and Blair laughed. They headed out of the lobby to the attached restaurant that the hotel had reserved for the conference.

"Consultant with the PD. They adopted Tommy," the cryptic conversation went over Tommy's head, though he'd make sure to find out what a bounty hunter was later on. He walked next to the Constable and started asking questions at a rapid pace, listening closely to the answers before asking the next one.

They found that dinner was arranged in tables, with name cards for everyone. Disappointed that he couldn't sit with his two new friends, Tommy cheered up at the promise of spending time with them tomorrow. He and Da had to go and sit in a very boring group of people who didn't like to answer his questions. Da spoke to him quietly through dinner and then he got to sit on Da's lap with a book while a big man stood up and talked for a while and all the grownups drank coffee and tea. Even though he was a big boy now, Tommy still loved to cuddle with his Da and wasn't embarrassed of it. Da always acted like it was normal, though sometimes he joked that he needed a bigger lap for his bigger boy.

He fell asleep in Da's lap and didn't stir when he was carried to bed, waking to a new day surprised to find himself back in their room.

0o0o0

Jim rolled out of bed before the alarm could go off and padded downstairs to look in on Clare before heading to the shower. This would be their first day with just the two of them in years - it was rare for the family to split up and go their separate ways. Or if they did it was usually Tommy and Clare left behind while their fathers went off to work.

Morning routine completed, Jim got the coffee maker going and headed to his daughters room. She was still tangled in the blankets, stirring a little as the noises he'd been making drifted into her consciousness.

"Good morning baby," Jim leant over and kissed her awake, then stroked her hair out of her eyes as she blinked up at him, "Time to get up."

"Do I have to?" she whined, "Tommy's not going to school today."

Prepared for this reaction Jim grinned and pulled the blankets back, making her wriggle in protest and sit up grumpily. The junior Sentinel wasn't impressed that her Guide was out of town, though Jim was resigned to it.

"Yes you do," he scolded lightly, "We agreed on this, remember? We'll go see Tommy and Uncle Blair when the holidays start, but you have to be a good girl and go to school."

"I remember," she sighed and got up, "I just…miss them."

The last part was said to the carpet and Jim reached out to pull her into his lap. He missed his Guide and Shaman deeply already too - even though he was adult enough to know that Blair would call and email them often. Even though Jim had urged his brother to take his chance to be in the spotlight the Sentinel selfishly wished the Guide had said no.

"I miss them too, baby," he kissed her hair, "But it won't be long and they needed some time together. Uncle Blair's a very important man this month - everyone wants to go and see him and listen to what he has to say."

"Why couldn't they just come here?" Clare grumbled, "Why did he have to go see them if he's so important?"

"Because there are lots of other people who are important there too. C'mon grumpy. Time to get ready. You have the bathroom while I make breakfast."

She sighed unhappily but kissed him and got off his knee, getting what she needed from her drawers and trailing off to the bathroom. Jim got up with a sigh to make breakfast. Listening to the noises in the bathroom was like a flashback - in some ways Clare was like Blair in the mornings. The young man woke slowly, but once up quickly became the whirlwind that Jim knew and loved. It hadn't been unusual for the Sentinel to lie in bed and listen to the smaller man drag himself from bed early to go running, the wide awake sounds when he returned a sharp contrast to the early morning creaks and groans.

They were putting the dirty plates in the sink when the phone rang, and Clare dashed over to the shrilling instrument to snatch it up.

"Hello? Good morning Uncle Blair!"

Jim grinned and started the washing up, listening shamelessly as his Guide greeted his daughter and they chatted together for a moment before Tommy took the phone to talk to Clare about the flight and meeting Detective Scruffy and his partner the Mountie. Tommy addressed his conversation to both Clare and Jim, sure that his Uncle was eavesdropping and comfortable with the idea as only a Guide could be.

Blair reclaimed the phone and checked in with Jim for a moment, sharing the rubber chicken remark and generally touching base with his brother before wishing them both a successful day and hanging up. Clare hugged her father happily, all gloominess forgotten, and went to get her schoolbag ready, snagging the lunch that her father had laid out for her. Jim got ready too, reflecting that the phone call had made a difference to them both. Wondering if it was a Shaman Guide trait or just something Blair knew from experience - Naomi had left her son behind a few times in the past - Jim herded his daughter out the front door and off to school.

0o0o0

Benton Fraser sat next to Tommy Sandburg and watched in astonishment as the longhaired man that he had dismissed as a theorist did his thing.

Fraser, like all cops, had little time for the people who sat and theorised about the profession of law enforcement. It was practical experience and intelligence that led cops to the successful conclusion of a case. While the Mountie had no problem with people who were 'book smart' (unlike others in the game) he resented being told how to do his job by people who'd never been in the field.

Blair Sandburg was not one of these people. He knew - he'd been there and done that so many times he was a cop in his own right. Tommy was listening to music on Blair's Walkman and therefore missing a lot of what was said, but he was grinning up at his father happily between chapters of the book on his lap. In a way, Fraser was glad the child couldn't hear what was being said - Cascade sounded like the most dangerous city in America.

Blair's speech was centred on the unit of Major Crimes and the way they used the public of Cascade and the resources at the local university to solve their various cases as quickly as possible. While the cops weren't exactly on the streets rescuing kittens and attending yard sales they did seem to have a solid tie to the community at large. Fraser suspected that this young man was at the heart of that rather unusual occurrence and resolved to ask the anthropologist about it later.

On the other side of Tommy, Stan 'Ray' Kowalski was slumped and staring into his coffee, knowing for a fact that the assembled people here were only getting half the story. He glanced at his partner and wondered what Frase would think if Stan announced casually that they were listening to a lecture from a modern day Shaman, and a Jewish one at that. Probably make that 'hmm' noise and then pepper Sandburg with questions later.

He'd been unable to discover much about Sandburg and Ellison. Their arrest and conviction rate was a matter of public record, and the fact that they were living together had nothing to do with their lifestyle choices. Jim 'beyond the call' Ellison was no friend of the press, and stayed out of it as much as possible - though his time in Peru was also a matter of public record.

Between the two of them, Ellison and Sandburg had achieved a ninety-nine percent solution rate on their work for the Cascade PD - an almost unheard of solve rate. Since Sandburg had been employed by the PD the solve rates in Cascade had climbed for the Central Precinct - where he was based. This wasn't attributed to the consultant, though Kowalski felt it was due in major part to him. The professor's life was harder to trace. He'd travelled worldwide as a child, and come to Rainer University as a child genius. His involvement with the PD had come about through Ellison - and he'd simply stayed on.

His doctorate was based on the PD, and he'd practically severed all ties with Rainer the minute it had been awarded, going out as an independent academic. From what Kowalski could discover that was fairly rare. Most academics worked with a University in order to get the additional funding and support the halls of academia afforded. If Sandburg wanted to go on expedition he'd have to come up with the funding himself. Maybe that was what this book launch was about…

The laughter of the audience drew Kowalski back to the present and he watched the people around him applaud as Sandburg smiled and got off the podium.

"Always leave them wanting more," the man grinned as he settled beside his son, "Ok there, Tommy?"

"Yep," the boy nodded, "You looked very smart up there, Da."

"Thank you, sweetheart," Blair smiled gently, "Is the book interesting?"

"Oh yeah! Do you think I could be a wizard?" Tommy beamed and Blair laughed as the people around them got up to go to lunch. Several were waiting nearby to discuss his talk with him, and he glanced at them with a smile.

"I think you could. Ms Duane is a very clever writer, isn't she? Ready for lunch?"

"Sure am," Tommy declared, "Constable, will you join us? And Detective Kowalski?"

"I'd be honoured to," Fraser stood, and Kowalski grinned, getting up as well at Tommy's urging. This young man was a handful. The detective had a feeling he was looking at the classic axiom of 'like father like son'.

0o0o0

Out

"Tommy!" Clare squealed and dropped her father's hand to run across the lobby. Her big brother caught her with a grunt and grinned at the messy blonde hair and travel smudged face that turned up to meet him. She was grinning just as broadly as her father came over too, not quite running, but not strolling either. The family had missed each other.

"Hey sis," the nickname was a new one and Clare beamed even harder, "You ok?"

"Mmmm," Clare agreed, putting her face in Tommy's neck like her dad did with Uncle Blair. Uncle Blair and Tommy both smelled the best there - Clare had been missing them as the fresh scents faded in the loft. It had been a little disturbing in a way - she'd never had to deal with such a complete separation. She'd zoned just before they left, totally panicking her father for a moment. Uncle Simon had pulled her out using Raffey - the textures and scent were so familiar she came right on back. Uncle Simon had been surprised that it had worked, but Daddy had a thoughtful expression on his face when they got in the car. It didn't matter now, her real Guide was here.

"Missed you too," Tommy told the top of her head and then grinned up at his Uncle. From the look on his face he was scenting Tommy as well. Tommy was too used to this reaction to even bother rolling his eyes.

"Hello Uncle Jim," he put a hand out and Jim pulled both kids into him for a hug, rubbing his hands through the Sandburg curls and his daughter's messy head.

"Where's your dad?" Jim asked, happy to have the younger version of his Guide close by, though missing the Senior Sandburg. Tommy beamed up at him. Touch was usually the last sense both of his Sentinel's went for - hearing had been the first, followed by sight. Taste didn't come into it and Tommy was glad - being licked by a Sentinel in public was kinda embarrassing. It had taken Da ages to stop Clare from doing that to him - in the end he'd had to teach her to link her taste and smell together.

"Da got asked to go to a special meeting! An important one! I promised to stay where the lady at the desk could see me and wait for you. Da trusted me to wait because I'm a big boy now," the pride in his accomplishment was obvious and Jim smiled down at him. Nothing like a little positive reinforcement.

"You sure are, sweetheart," he agreed immediately, "Do you think you could stay right here with Clare while I check in? Then we can go upstairs together."

"Sure, Uncle Jim!" Tommy nodded and sat down happily on the couch where he'd been waiting with a book, dragging Clare along with him. She had yet to stop drinking in his scent, and from the tightness of her grip she was a little tired as well. Neither Sentinel flew well, though Uncle Jim would have used a white noise generator for Clare. They didn't work for Uncle Jim any more and Tommy noted that his Uncle would need to rest when they got up to the rooms.

"Mmph," Clare protested and Tommy petted her back gently, waiting out the reaction. This was the first time he'd been away from his little sister and Uncle for so long. He'd loved the time spent with Da, and he'd loved showing his Da off - Tommy had taken it upon himself to introduce his father to new people, though Blair was careful to monitor which ones would react poorly to this affectation. He'd missed his Sentinel, though, and his Uncle.

Uncle Jim came back and picked Clare up. She'd gone to sleep and Tommy grinned conspiratorially at his Uncle. Uncle Jim winked and took them to the elevator while another man carried the bags. Uncle Jim's room was just opposite theirs, and the man with the bags went in while Tommy unlocked his door as well. Uncle Jim took Clare into Tommy's room and put her on Da's bed. The two men watched as Clare sighed deeply and snuggled into the pillow, relaxing even further into sleep. The Shaman Guide's scent was fresh from this morning and soothed the last of the travel stress away.

"Hey kiddo, you decent?" Kowalski's voice sounded from the hallway and Tommy bounced over to the still open door.

"Hi Ray, guess what?" he chirped happily. The brightly dressed man with wildly spiked hair grinned down at his favourite playmate. The conference would have been deadly dull without this young man's presence. Now he had a good excuse to use with Fraser when he ducked out of attending something.

"You're mad and I'm not," Ray gave the traditional answer to that particular question and Tommy rolled his eyes - the traditional response. If you couldn't hang with your little sister or your friends, Detective Scruffy was the next best thing.

"No, Uncle Jim and Clare are here!" he said in a patient voice. Kowalski looked further into the room and then came in to shake hands and do the cop version of 'hail fellow well met'. They made plans to meet up for dinner and Kowalski - who had been attracted by the open door and unusual adult voice - left. Jim grinned to himself, reflecting that in a hotel full of cops his children were more than safe.

Feeling the long journey catch up with him, Jim closed the door and then joined Clare on the bed. Tommy climbed up too, making them into a 'puppy pile' as Jim let the scent of his Guides draw him into sleep.

0o0o0

Kowalski looked up as a frowning Jim Ellison ushered his children into the dining room. His partner wasn't with him, which may have been the reason for the scowl.

"Hey, Ellison!" Kowalski waved them over to the table that he and Fraser were sharing - it was larger than they needed on purpose. The Sandburg's had organised to eat with their friends, even though Sandburg Senior was in popular demand as a dinner companion. He was the conference's rising star - his sessions were always standing room only, and people went out of their way to be introduced to him.

Blair hadn't let it go to his head. He was the same person that Kowalski had known in Cascade - a hard working, practical person with a sense of humour warped in all the right places. He put himself forward when he saw the need; otherwise he was happy to let someone else shine. Not the attitude you'd expect of the 'man of the hour'.

Tommy bounced up into his usual seat next to Kowalski while Jim helped Clare into the seat opposite. Fraser was given a very piercing look - which startled Kowalski. Everyone got along with Fraser - he was such an easygoing guy. Fraser gave Ellison an equally piercing look and Kowalski shifted uneasily. Ellison was a good man, but if he took exception to Ben there'd be some reckoning - no one dissed his partner.

"Problem?" Kowalski's sharp tone drew the piercing gaze to himself and Ellison sat down quietly.

"Do you know where this meeting Sandburg went to was being held? He's not back yet," Ellison said in a quiet voice. Tommy looked up at his friend hopefully.

"Da didn't tell me," he sighed, "He promised to be back for dinner, but we slept through the first sitting."

"No, he didn't say anything to me," Kowalski shook his head, ruffling the fly away curls of his young friend. He looked over at his partner, "Frase, did the Doc say anything to you?"

"No," Fraser frowned, his lips tight against the single word, "I've not seen Blair today."

"It's probably running overtime," Jim suggested when he caught the first scent of uneasiness from Tommy, "Never mind, he'll be along when it's done. What will you have for dinner, Clare? Tommy?"

The menu was a successful distraction for the children, though Kowalski couldn't dismiss the uneasy tension in the back of his neck. It was there all through dinner in the slightly off responses from Fraser and the tight skin around Ellison's eyes. The two men didn't react well to each other, though Ellison was friendly enough with Ray and the children. Fraser was also oddly uncommunicative.

Ellison left with the children after dinner, telling Kowalski that they were headed back upstairs to their rooms. Kowalski promised to pass the message on and watched the family enter the lift before turning to his partner with a frown.

"Perhaps we should inquire at the desk about this meeting," Fraser was rubbing his eyebrow in thought and Kowalski reached out to put his hand on his friend's wrist. Fraser straightened up in response and Ray smiled. His partner was not the kind to just reach out and touch someone - even if that was what he needed. Kowalski often had the overwhelming urge to just reach out and give the guy a bear hug; like he had the day they first met.

"Good idea, Frase," Kowalski agreed, shaking himself from his thoughts, "C'mon."

They headed for the front desk. If this didn't work then they'd look for the organisers. They weren't in Chicago, so they couldn't put out an unofficial APB, but there were enough cops and other people here to send out an alert if things turned out to be screwy.

0o0o0

Jim woke disappointed. He was still alone, despite the fact that Clare and Tommy were sharing Blair's bed with him. Blair had not returned, and Jim had been too tired from the stress of flying with an untrained Sentinel to stay awake looking for him.

Jim eased himself out of the bed, careful not to wake the young Sentinel/Guide pair sleeping in a tangle on the bed. He washed up quickly and then changed his clothes before going back to wake his son and daughter. Tommy looked for his father first thing, and his little face crumpled in dismay when he realised that Da was still not back.

"Uncle Jim, where's Da?" there was the beginnings of fear in the young voice, piercing Jim's heart. He sat on the bed and pulled the boy in for a hug, winding his arm around his daughter as well.

"He's not back yet. Maybe he got back too late and didn't want to wake us. We'll check to see if he left a message for us somewhere, ok?" he promised, rocking the children in his lap and generally trying to project the comforting vibes that his brother managed so effortlessly. Something must have worked because Tommy calmed down and agreed to go wash up before breakfast, taking Clare with him.

A quick call to the front desk revealed no messages from Blair, though Kowalski had left one for him - to meet him at breakfast urgently. Jim decided the detective must have some news for him and took the children to the restaurant for breakfast. Fraser and his partner were there already, and Fraser offered to sit with the children while Kowalski and Jim filled plates for everyone. They were in line for the buffet when Kowalski briefed Jim.

"The organisers and the hotel staff all have no idea of where this meeting was supposed to take place, or even who it's with. Your partners a smart man, so whoever it was they had to have had some decent credentials to get him to come along. I've put the word out among the conference attendee's and they're keeping an eye out for anything unusual. So far no one has remembered seeing your partner after his last talk yesterday."

"Damn," Jim sighed, "I've got a real bad feeling about this."

"Anything like the one that had the Doc lead me and your captain halfway across Cascade when you were hurt that time?" Kowalski's gaze was knowing and Jim acknowledged it with a nod.

"Nothing like that - he's the one that gets the clear vibes, I just get the possibilities. Right now it's possible he's held under duress somewhere - but I don't know where. Or why. Or who. Damnit!"

"Easy there," Kowalski said softly, "Keep it together - the kids need you to focus. Have you got someone they can go to? It might be a good idea if you can get someone out to take care of them or something."

"I'll call my dad. And I'd better call our boss - he'll need to know," Jim sighed and they turned back to the table with full plates for the people waiting, "The kids aren't going to like this - not at all."

Clare looked up at him with a frown as they reached the table and Jim gave her a warning look. She knew better than to listen in on his conversations with another adult - it had been a hard fight, but she had eventually accepted this restriction. Oddly enough Jim and Blair had totally swapped personalities in this aspect of the young Sentinel's training. Jim had sat her down and explained it patiently - the right to privacy, the fact that adults sometimes talked about things that children shouldn't hear and the way she'd spoil all the surprises that adults liked to prepare for their kids. Clare had agreed with him the whole way, promised to behave, gave him all the right answers and been sent off to play with Tommy while her proud father beamed at his brother. She'd done it again the next day and Jim had once more sat down to explain the problem once again, adding that being a Sentinel was a trust, not a birthright. He'd held her hand while she nodded and agreed with what he was saying.

They'd caught her at it again the same day. Blair had watched her start the same snow job on her father as before and lost his temper, getting angry and telling the junior Sentinel that until she proved her trustworthiness to him again he would carry and use a white noise generator. He'd also grounded her for a week and sent her to her room. One day of being deprived of her families heartbeats and voices had her truly repentant. She only extended her hearing with her Guide's approval - and Blair's consent as well. Tommy had been deeply impressed by his father's rare display of temper and made sure to only let Clare extend her hearing when they were training together - in the form of games that Blair had okayed - or if they were looking for a member of the family.

Clare blinked at her father and then bridled. She was worried about Uncle Blair, but she hadn't listened to what he was saying with Detective Scruffy. She never again wanted to live in the awful silence that her breach of trust had created. Her Daddy ruffled her hair in apology and then leaned over to kiss her temple.

"Sorry baby," he whispered in her ear and she nodded, looking over at her Guides unhappy face.

"Daddy, where is Uncle Blair?" she asked when her father was sat down next to her. He sighed and looked over at Tommy. The junior Guide was also watching him unhappily.

"We're not sure," he replied gently, "We're looking for him, ok? I'm going to call Poppy to come and visit while we look."

"Can't you find him?" there was a tear in Tommy's eyes, "Please Uncle Jim, you have to look for him."

"I will sweetheart, but I want to be sure that you are being taken care of," Jim got up and went to kneel at Tommy's side, "It's all going to be ok, I promise. Da will be ok too."

Tommy buried his head in Jim's shoulder for a moment and then straightened up. He touched Jim's chest, his eyes shining with the same look his father got when he had an idea.

"Find him Uncle Jim! You just have to look!"

Jim put a hand over the one that was pressed to his heart and smiled as best he could.

"I will, sweetheart - and the people here will help me look ok?" his smile faded when Tommy shook his head adamantly, tears spilling over his cheeks as he tried to Guide his father's Sentinel in the right path.

"You look!" he insisted, his voice catching, "Look!"

"Shh," Jim pulled him close again and Tommy hit his shoulder with a clenched fist, not hard enough to bruise, but hard enough to be felt. His muffled insistence that Jim look was audible to Kowalski and Fraser, who exchanged looks while Clare got down and went to comfort her Guide too.

0o0o0

Breakfast was declared a disaster and Tommy and Clare were returned to Clare's room. Jim didn't want to risk upsetting Clare with the fading scent of their Shaman Guide. Tommy curled up on the bed and refused to talk to his uncle, angry that he couldn't make himself understood. After a while Uncle Jim went to talk to the PD and Clare promised to stay with her Guide and not open the door to anyone except her Daddy.

She went and sat on the bed next to Tommy and rested a hand on his back.

"I'm sorry Tommy," she whispered, "I wish I could help."

Tommy sat up abruptly, startling her. His short curls were on end and he had a wild look in his eyes. He reminded Clare of her Uncle - he would get this look on his face too, when he was in the midst of pulling some rabbit out of his hat. He'd looked like Tommy when he'd banned her from listening to other people's conversations and condemned her to silence.

"Tommy?" Clare asked nervously, drawing back a little. Tommy fixed his eyes on her and grinned.

"You can help!" he exclaimed, "You can help me to look!"

"Tommy, I promised to…"

"Stay with me! If I go out then you have to as well! Please, Clare - I want my Da!" Tommy hopped up and brushed his hands over his face and clothes. Clare got up too, indecision in her face. She wanted to help, and she wanted to see her Uncle and family Patriarch as well. At the same time she didn't want to get into trouble with her own Daddy.

"Please, Clare," Tommy begged softly, "We have to try."

Clare hesitated and then caved, unable to deny her Guide this one thing. She nodded and put on the jacket he was holding out to her, and then took his hand. Tommy smiled and kissed her cheek before leading the way to the door, explaining what he wanted her to do as they walked.

"Ok," he said firmly, "Da and I were in the lobby and this man in a business suit came up and spoke to him. They spoke quietly for a moment and then Da came and told me to wait for you and Uncle Jim. You'll have to try and find Da's scent or something."

"I don't know, Tommy," Clare frowned, "It's pretty busy down there."

"I just want you to try," Tommy told her, "It's ok if you can't. Besides, we'll go through the door that they went through - it might be easier there."

"Ok," Clare sighed and they walked through the lobby quickly, heads held up like they were supposed to be there. No one stopped them, and neither child could see Jim or Detective Scruffy and his partner so they were fairly safe.

Turning left through the lobby the children went through a connecting door to a series of small conference rooms. This area was not as heavily used as the lobby and Tommy slowed right down, letting Clare sniff as they walked along the broad corridor. She stopped near the fire exit.

"There's a funny smell here," she told her Guide, "And Uncle Blair's scent is here too. It doesn't go any further."

Tommy bent and looked at the fire door carefully.

"This is broken. It won't set the alarm off if we open it. Maybe Da went through here," he glanced up and down the hall and out a hand to the door to open it.

"Wait!" Clare grabbed his arm, "It goes outside! It's the middle of winter Tommy. We don't have a map and we'll get lost out there. Lets go up and find Daddy. Maybe he can find out more than we have - he's stronger than me."

"Only when Da's around," Tommy frowned, "And he won't listen to me. He only listens to Da now."

"We still have to tell him," Clare insisted and grabbed her Guide's hand, "There might be clues here that the police need to see. We can't mess it up!"

She dragged her big brother back to the lobby and over to the front desk where her father was standing, arguing with the person behind the desk.

"Daddy!" Clare called, and Jim turned immediately. His face cleared of worry, and then his jaw clenched. He strode quickly towards his children, anger and relief on his face in equal measure. He grabbed Clare's hand the moment he was beside them and reached for Tommy too.

"Where were you?" his voice was low and angry, "I told you to stay…"

"Together," Tommy interrupted firmly, finishing the sentence, "You didn't say we had to stay in the room. We found a clue Uncle Jim - the fire escape down there has been messed up and Clare can smell Da there, as well as something else."

"Hey, you found them," Kowalski's voice was relieved as he came up behind Jim, "Where were they?"

"There's something they want to show me," Jim said, "Hurry up you two. Poppy's on his way - he'll be here after lunch. Until then, I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Clare led the way while Tommy spoke in a low voice, telling his Uncle what he had asked his Sentinel to do and what she had found. Jim's grip didn't loosen so much as a fraction as the children stopped near the door and the adult Sentinel sent his own senses out to check.

"Chloroform," Fraser said in surprise behind them and Tommy and Clare both turned to glance at him.

"Is that what it's called," Clare mused and filed the name and the scent away, nodding to Tommy when she had. No one in the corridor found it unusual for the Mountie to identify the scent - after all, in the Sandburg Ellison family it was a normal occurrence for someone to have heightened senses.

"I'll take your word for it," Kowalski told his partner, "Anything else?"

"No," Jim said shortly and pushed the door open with the back of his hand, letting the cold air blast in. They couldn't afford to delay now - the trail was being obliterated with every passing moment.

"Do up your jackets kids. Let's go."

0o0o0

The trail led along the alley to the curb. Jim bit back a bad word, glancing at his children. Fraser stepped around him and started looking around carefully, shadowed by Kowalski, who was muttering something about 'licking things'.

They watched incredulously as Fraser got down on the ground and started poring over the sludge there. Kowalski looked over his shoulder at them and came back; a little uneasy at letting these outsiders watch his partner work. They were used to each other and knew that Fraser's skills would get them the results they needed. Ray just didn't know how to explain this to two grieving children and one peeved cop.

"Give me your cell phone," Jim said before Kowalski could speak, letting go of Tommy long enough to fish his own out and swap them over, "Once the kids are with my Dad I'll call you and we'll meet up."

The Sentinel of the Great City had finally pinpointed the tension he was feeling around the Chicago flatfoot and his partner - the Sentinel of the Windy City had not been formally introduced by the Shaman Guide. He nodded once to Ray and then took the children back inside, cutting through the lobby to the valet stand, where the rental car he'd arranged for was retrieved. He buckled the children in and headed for the airport.

William Ellison was flying out in the corporate jet - so Jim and the children had the waiting area to themselves. Clare stood against the window, watching all the activity outside with wide eyes. Tommy sat slumped next to his uncle.

"I'm sorry kiddo," Jim sighed, feeling that he'd failed Tommy somehow. Big blue eyes looked up at him sadly.

"It's ok, Uncle Jim," Tommy sighed, "It was a stupid idea anyway."

"Huh?" Jim frowned, "You got us a clue - a good place to start!"

"Not the search in the hotel - the looking," Tommy tried to explain, "You know, when you look for dad without going anywhere? He has a name for it."

Jim frowned and thought hard, trying to figure out just how Tommy wanted him to stay in one place and…

"Oh!" Jim exclaimed, remembering the way Tommy had touched his chest above his heart. The young Guide had wanted him to use the bond to locate the Shaman. Unfortunately Jim wasn't sure he could do that without Blair to Guide him through it first - and he'd never tried to spirit walk on his own. The Sentinel's visions came at the whim of the spirit plane, not at the Sentinel's command.

"I don't know how to do that without your Da," Jim sighed, "That's his area of expertise."

Tommy sighed again and pulled away, leaving Jim to sit alone and going to stand next to his young Sentinel. Jim was left with the unmistakable feeling that he'd failed and thus disappointed his nephew. Frustrated, he sat back and folded his arms. Blair was the mystical one in the family; he was the Shaman after all. With his senses Jim tended to be grounded more firmly in the external world - visions and spirit guides only came to him in dire emergencies.

And yet, Jim reflected, there wasn't an emergency much more dire than this. His Shaman Guide was missing, and had been for more than twenty-four hours. His juniors were distressed and vulnerable while he was torn between protecting them and searching for his Guide. Until they were protected he was forced to allow a Sentinel he'd never met before conduct a search for his missing soul mate. If there was ever a time for visions, this was it. Tommy had even told him to try - so why wasn't it happening?

Because you're not trying, you're being stubborn, Blair's voice echoed in Jim's head and he sat up, startled. It was the exasperated tone of a tired man, and Jim cringed at the idea that he was blocking off his only hope of finding the man who was more than family to him.

Settling once more, his hands loose and comfortable upon his knees, Jim took slow, calm breaths; centring himself as best he could in the turmoil of the airport. He let the doors of the lounge become barriers, blocking out the people in the airport and the heartbeats of his children his anchor. The world quietened and slipped away slowly, to be replaced with the jungle of his visions.

Jim looked around, and then cast his senses for the wolf. When he didn't find it, he headed down the well-travelled path to the temple he knew was waiting for him. He picked up traces of Blair on the path, but they were old - his Shaman Guide had not journeyed here for a while. The jaguar waited on the steps of the temple, sprawled insolently next to its stone counterpart.

"Where is my Guide?" Jim demanded of it, and got no response beyond a lash of its tail. Jim frowned and looked around the clearing, then started up the steps of the temple. His spirit guide got up and strolled behind him, walking almost on his heels. Inside, the temple reflected the one in Mexico and Jim found himself standing next to the pools. The jaguar purred and nudged him forward so he could see into the cool, still water.

For a moment there was nothing in the pool, then it's surface rippled and changed. Inside he could now see a small, dark room. There was weak light filtering from a high window in one wall - the grimy glass was streaked with years of filth and looked like it wouldn't open without a brick being thrown through it. Frowning, Jim leaned his palms on the side of the pool and looked closer. The room wasn't as empty as he'd first thought. In the corner, stripped to his thin boxers, curled the Shaman Guide. There were bruises and welts covering his body - making Jim's blood boil in anger. He was shivering - actually it was beyond that stage, he was so cold he shook with palsy. There was blood from a split eyebrow and that eye was swollen shut. Fevered eyes opened to stare at Jim glassily. A wildly shaking hand lifted and pointed to the wall behind him. Obediently, Jim looked and frowned. A word had been scrawled onto the wall in the dust. It made no sense to him and he turned to ask Blair what it meant. The sound of his voice broke the trance and Jim opened his eyes to see his father kneeling in front of him while Simon held Tommy and Clare.

The look in Tommy's eyes was reward in itself.

0o0o0

Simon followed as Jim steamed out of the airport to his rental car while William Ellison headed for the company limo and the hotel with his grandchildren.

"Jim! Slow down dammit!" Simon yelled, almost running to keep up. Jim slowed a little and Simon grabbed his arm.

"Look, it's bad enough when Sandburg goes on one of his little side trips, but when you join the act…" Simon began in a hurried tone. His best detective laughed humourlessly, and the police captain shivered at the sound.

"I was taking side trips first - remember?" he asked his boss, who climbed in and buckled up while Jim left the car park in his usual fashion. When Simon could work up enough spit to moisten his mouth, he spoke again.

"You haven't zoned for years, Jim and you know it," he retorted. Jim grunted and fished in his pocket, tossing the phone he'd retrieved to Simon.

"Call my cell phone," he told the captain, "Kowalski has it. His Sentinel is tracking Sandburg's abductors."

"Shit!" Simon yelped, "Kowalski's a Guide? He has a Sentinel?!"

"Yeah - I figured it out just before we split up. It's ok Simon - this is one of the good guys," Jim reassured the dark skinned man, "It's not another Alex - though we're both setting off each others radars. Once Blair's safe he'll fix it."

"And how the hell do you know that?" Simon scowled while dialling. He caught Jim's shrug from the corner of his eye and sighed. Life was never dull with the Sandburg-Ellison family. He just hoped he'd be around to see more of it. Blair had been missing long enough for his abductors to do some serious damage if they were that way inclined. His loss would be a devastating blow to the family - including the members from the PD.

The phone was answered - not with the typical cops bark - but with a complaint.

"Dammit Ellison, what took ya?"

"It's Banks," Simon identified himself to Kowalski, "What have you got?"

"We're in the warehouse district - can't these people find a better place to hide? My partner tracked them as far as this, but the trail is confused. We're going to need more than the two of us here."

"Give me the address," Simon told him. He relayed it to Jim, who estimated ten minutes to get there, and then relayed Jim's terse order to the Chicago detective.

"Find out what Umbro means."

0o0o0

Kowalski was slouched against a wall when Jim pulled up, with his partner standing almost at attention beside him. The neat red uniform was certainly an eye catcher under the navy coat and Simon winced at the thought of taking a man into action in that colour. Before he could suggest that the Mountie change - or at least remove the tunic - Jim was asking if Kowalski had found out the meaning of Umbro.

"It's a brand name - they make sports clothes," Kowalski replied straight away and jerked his head at his partner. Jim took the gesture to mean that the information came from Fraser rather than extensive research, but was willing to let it stand.

"Do they have a warehouse here?" he looked around, trying not to let the sounds and smells overwhelm him. This part of the warehouse area was busy and noisome. He wondered how Fraser was coping without Kowalski's active touch.

"I haven't seen one, but we can find out," Kowalski replied, swapping his phone back and hitting a memory button.

"The Yellow Pages?" Fraser asked in amusement and Kowalski rolled his eyes.

"It seemed like a good idea after that last time…"

He stopped speaking to his partner and started speaking to the phone instead, turning away slightly to concentrate. They waited in silence, with Jim looking around keenly, trying to get a feel for the area so his senses would settle. They kept drifting, caught by one thing or another as they tried to locate his missing brother. His protective instincts were working overtime after the vision. Blair was sick and hurt and needed him…

Simon's hand on his wrist recalled Jim to the present world before he could get too deep into the zone.

"Stay with us Ellison - I don't want to have to explain this crap to Kowalski and his partner. That is Sandburg's job. So let's stay with it and find him, ok," Simon's growl was too low for normal hearing, though Fraser of course heard it. A look of puzzlement crossed his face, but he chose not to say anything, waiting instead for his partner to finish his phone call.

"Got it," Kowalski crowed, "Come on!"

He led the way at a jog, following the road signs and the directions he'd scrawled on the back of a receipt. Jim kept close reign on his senses, not wanting to delay the rescue with a zone out or spike.

The Umbro warehouse was busy - forklifts sped about with crates and boxes and the reception area had two or three drivers waiting in it, complaining about the coffee, the weather, their pay and their sports team. The noise nearly overwhelmed Jim again, until Simon's touch restored his balance. Fraser was rubbing his eyebrow and Kowalski frowned at him, before patting his wrist and leaning over the counter to ask a couple of quick questions that Simon couldn't hear and Jim obviously didn't catch. Five minutes of 'conversation' in that racket and Kowalski was leading them back out again, not stopping until they were off the premises and around the corner.

"Ok," he took a deep breath and ruffled a hand through his hair. Jim caught the scent of whatever the Chicago detective used in his hair and watched as Fraser relaxed when the smell reached him.

"We lucked out. Umbro moved to that warehouse about two months ago because the old one was too small and needed more money spent on it to refit it than the company was willing to pay. Because it's in such bad repair the receptionist thinks that it's still empty. My guess is that whoever has Sandburg has taken him there."

"You got the address?" Simon asked and Kowalski gave him a 'duh' look and nodded.

"It's not in easy walking distance," he told them, "We should head back to the car."

0o0o0

"How do you want to play this?" Simon asked as Jim followed the directions from the back seat.

"Whattya mean?" Kowalski asked, "We find him, we call the cops, we get him out."

"How do you explain finding him? How do we explain that we knew he was in the Umbro warehouse? We asked for directions, for crying out loud!" Simon didn't hide his exasperation. Were these two that forward with the whole Sentinel thing that they never bothered to hide it?

"Ellison's informant gave us the info - right Ellison? I mean - that is how you found them. Frase and I tracked the car to the right district and then you came up with the rest - turn here Ellison," Kowalski frowned at Simon and the police captain looked over at the other half of his best team.

"Jim? You got an informant out this way?" Simon asked and Jim nodded tensely, not wanting to get into an argument about cover stories right now. He was watching for any suspicious traffic and pedestrians, not wanting to give away their presence to Blair's captors.

"Ya know, it's kinda weird…" Kowalski mused, "I mean why has there been no claim for ransom or anything? Why take the doc and not make any demands or try and contact anyone?"

"You're assuming that Dr Sandburg has not simply been killed and his body hidden," Fraser said quietly, "It is a possibility we would do well to consider."

"He's not dead," Jim snapped, "I'd know if he was."

Fraser looked as though he wanted to pursue the matter but his partner shook his head in warning. Jim pulled up to the curb when directed and they sat quietly in the car, looking around at the area. This was much seedier - the warehouses here in need of repair, with a few obviously close to being outright condemned. There was little foot traffic, though cars and trucks went along the street on a regular basis, enough so that their car didn't stand out.

"That one," Kowalski pointed and Simon reached over to Jim at the same time as the man from Chicago. Jim felt the double tingle of Guide Touch and his senses went flying almost without his permission.

"He's alone. In the basement at the back," Jim blurted and Kowalski let go, fishing for his cell phone and calling it in to the local PD through the 911 systems. Jim was out of the car and prowling already, Fraser and Simon close behind. The doors were locked, and the windows were firmly boarded up. There was a dumpster under the fire escape though, and Fraser opened it, discovering Blair's clothes inside. Jim and Simon got up on the dumpster and then onto the fire escape, followed by Fraser and Kowalski.

It was but a few minutes work to get to the top and break open the door on the roof before heading down inside the building. The late afternoon sun didn't penetrate the grimy windows, making the interior almost completely dark to unenhanced eyes. Simon latched onto Jim's jacket and a glance showed Kowalski trailing along with his hand in Fraser's sam browne.

"Watch it," Kowalski said softly, "This place is falling apart. We don't want anyone going down the stairs the wrong way."

No one replied, though Jim sent his hearing ahead of them cautiously, listening to the structural creaks and groans for possible trouble spots.

The basement was as filthy as his vision and Jim hissed in anger as he hurried to the corner where his unconscious Shaman Guide lay. Simon bit off an exclamation and stripped off his coat hurriedly, passing it over so they could warm their consultant up. The others added theirs.

Despite Jim's soft urging, Blair's eyes didn't open - and there was no other response either. Air whistled in and out of his throat harshly, and a harsh, bubbling cough disturbed his rest for a moment. It put the hairs on the back of Simon's neck up to hear it.

"He's been beaten pretty badly," Jim reported, a trace of anguish in his voice, "He's hypothermic and there is fluid in his lungs."

"Can we move him?" Fraser asked urgently, "We're about to have company - and I don't believe it's the local PD."

Jim's head snapped up as he heard the footsteps that Fraser had already pinpointed. He swore softly and Simon helped him bundle Blair up and together they lifted him off the floor. Fraser and Kowalski led the way, bypassing the stairs they'd come down in favour of retreating further into the basement, finding cover in a prefab office with no glass in the windows.

The male voices that swore long and loud were thickly accented in the peculiar patios of gang speak. Simon turned a hand enough to grasp Jim's wrist, preventing the Sentinel from shifting his Guide into Simon's arms and heading out for vengeance.

Loud voices from upstairs and gunfire announced the arrival of back up.

0o0o0

Leave

Blair opened his eyes to the warmth of the loft and smiled a little. The afternoon sun was streaming through the windows off Jim's balcony and onto the couch where he lay propped and covered by a thick quilt. The pneumonia had proven especially difficult to beat, and traces of it still remained, as evinced by the lingering barking cough and exhaustion.

He didn't remember much from the time he was chloroformed to waking in the hospital. Jim had told him that a few of the local gangs had come up with the not so brilliant idea that it might be nice to have an expert on police procedure and tactics at their beck and call - hence his abduction. They'd managed to blackmail an attendee into decoying him to the corridor where they waited and the rest was history.

At the hoarse question 'why me' Jim's face had taken on a bitter smile.

"Because you are the conference's rising star," his touch had been tender as he stroked Blair's curls back from his face, "Who better to predict the police' next move than the top state profiler?"

"Not your fault. Probably would have gone anyway - just not with Tommy," the cryptic message had been the last thing Blair said for three days as his body once more slipped into a near coma to fight the infection ravaging his lungs. Jim had plenty of time to figure it out. He had urged Blair to go to the conference, wanting his partner to gain some much-deserved recognition. If he hadn't also insisted Blair take his son so the family could meet up later, no one would have realised Blair was missing until his next scheduled speech at the end of the conference. It assuaged some of Jim's irrational guilt - though he wouldn't be an Ellison if he hadn't felt something.

Tommy appeared around the end of the couch, looking at his father anxiously, smiling when he realised Blair was awake again. He came to sit next to his father, one hand rubbing Blair's chest, the other tucked into the one Blair held out to him.

"Feel better, Da?" Tommy asked in a quiet voice and Blair nodded.

"Much," he husked, "With all the care and attention my family is giving me I'll be better in no time."

"Uh huh," Tommy shook his head, "You have to rest for a long long time now. Uncle Jim said we aren't going to let you do anything for at least three months so you'll really really get better."

"Oh he did, did he?" Blair asked grimly, gathering himself to put that notion into an early grave.

"Yes, he did," Jim's voice said softly. He leaned over the edge of the couch, clearly using his senses to check his Guide out, "Like you said with the appendix, Chief - if you push things too early, you could relapse and take twice as long to get better."

"Advice from a wise man," Clare added with a chuckle, rounding the couch to lean against her Guide. Blair read the stress and concern in each face and gave in, not wanting to burden them further. He could play possum for a while and truth told, he did feel a bit like a wet noodle at the moment.

"Can't argue with that then," he sighed, "Just wait, though. I'm a very demanding patient. And right now I'm demanding snuggles."

The children giggled and complied happily, and Jim reached down to cup Blair's temple in his hand. As long as Blair was there to put demands on the family - that was all that mattered.

End

This is the last one in the Tommy series for a while - I'll start another one some time next year.


	11. Past Demons

Authors note: this is for all those people who asked what was going on with Simon……….heh heh heh! Seasons Greetings and peace to you all.

P.S. - - - the injuries Blair got from Alex probably don't follow cannon…but when has a little detail like that ever stopped me? ;-)

Past Demons

Blair surfaced slowly from a very deep sleep, not quite sure what had woken him. He wasn't afraid, nor could he sense any danger to the occupants of the double loft. There were no unusual scents or lights in the loft. The baby monitor that he'd never quite gotten rid of relayed the soft breaths of his sleeping eleven-year-old son - Tommy was in no distress, and breathing easily. The slightly cooler air of the loft was touching Blair's back, and he frowned sleepily. This was probably what had woken him, and he tugged at the blankets around his waist, only to be restrained …

Then Blair got it - his Sentinel was on the bed with him. He was crouching with his head pressed to Blair's back, his strong hands framing Blair's ribcage, holding the Shaman Guide in place as he listened intently. Blair remembered this from his last bout of pneumonia and obligingly took slow deep breaths. He was rewarded with a contented rumble as the Sentinel checked his lungs out thoroughly and pronounced them clear. Large gentle hands pulled the covers back up and then lingered over a shoulder, stroking tenderly, while the crouching man shifted on the bed cautiously. Whatever he was checking on Sandburg's shoulder apparently passed muster, because the blanket was pulled all the way up and his hair stroked while Jim purred softly. The handling had been tender and loving, unhurried and concerned with his comfort, so Blair drifted back to sleep, making a mental note to ask what was going on in the morning.

When he asked Jim at breakfast, though, the Sentinel had no idea what he was talking about - and even went so far as to suggest that Blair had been dreaming the entire episode. Tommy and Clare were watching with curious eyes so Blair took the comment meekly, tugging at his son's hair in passing.

They were in the bullpen all day - Jim was wrapping up a case for the DA and Blair was consulting in his office. Jim came in for lunch as usual, sitting in Blair's visitors chair with his feet propped on the desk while they munched on sandwiches and plain chips. It was rare for either man to eat in the break room now, heck it was rare for half of Major Crimes, they all seemed to end up in Blair's office for a group lunch that let them all touch base socially. Blair didn't mind it.

Tommy and Clare volunteered to cook dinner that night - a simple pasta dish that Blair supervised while reading over Tommy's history essay, and the family spent the night camped out on Blair's couches, watching Disney movies and sharing popcorn. It was Saturday tomorrow, so the kids were allowed to stay up a little later, which resulted in Clare being carried to bed and Tommy piloted by his father.

Shaman and Sentinel spent some time playing chess quietly together before the Sentinel retired for the night and Blair locked up his part of the loft, checking on Larry one last time before going to bed himself. This time he woke when the bed dipped under Jim's weight, and turned to look at his brother through drowsy eyes.

Jim's eyes were unseeing - a chilling blank that gleamed coldly in the light from Blair's skylight. The Sentinel was moving with unhurried purpose, climbing to crouch over Blair and lowering his head to Blair's chest.

"Jim?" Blair whispered softly, "Enquiri?"

The second name got a rumble of response and Blair caressed the soft short hair in a soothing touch, breathing deliberately for the man listening to his heart and lungs so anxiously. He was petted in turn, and then his shoulder cautiously stroked. Blair rotated the joint obligingly, frowning when Enquiri took the arm in his hands and manipulated it this way and that. His shoulder hadn't been causing him any problems lately, though he'd had the odd twinge from an old injury when a bad snowstorm was coming in. But it was autumn now, and wouldn't snow for quite a while.

"What's wrong, Enquiri?" Blair murmured gently, "What's bothering you, Sentinel?"

"Mine," the low growl was the only response as Blair was lifted and laid down, then tucked in and petted gently, Enquiri rumbling now and then, words that Blair couldn't hear clearly flowing over his head. The hypnotic rhythm was sending Blair back to sleep in spite of himself. He roused long enough to secure a grip on the hem of Jim's boxers and let his Sentinel lull him back to sleep.

When Blair woke in the morning he had Jim's boxers in his hand and Jim was gone. The Shaman leapt up and stumbled past Tommy's room, hurrying into Jim's portion of the double loft, jogging up the stairs to find Jim sprawled naked on his back in the middle of the bed, his arms and legs askew. Blair would have thought him dead if not for the slight snores and even breathing.

"Jim?" Blair picked up the edge of the comforter and draped it across his friend to preserve his modesty. He sat on the edge of the mattress and shook his brothers' shoulder lightly, "Jim? Wake up."

"Grrmmmffff," Jim rolled onto his side, curled up around Blair's hip and sighed deeply. Blair smiled a little, his fears assuaged by the touch - their most vital connection. He shook the muscular shoulder again, calling lightly until Jim was awake and looking at him.

"G'morning," Jim mumbled, wiping a hand over his face and then dropping that hand onto Blair's thigh in a very proprietary manner.

"Good morning," Blair replied, rubbing the shoulder under his hand lightly, "How did you sleep?"

Jim frowned, catching sight of his boxers clenched in his brothers' hand.

"What the…!" he peeked and blushed, "Chief, if this is some kind of a joke…"

"It's no joke, Jim," Blair shook his head, "Last night you came to my room again, checked me over and then put me back to sleep. I grabbed hold of the hem of your shorts, hoping to keep you with me but I guess Enquiri decided to leave them behind rather than fight with me."

"Enquiri?" Jim scowled, and Blair sighed. Even after all this time, the mystical side of things was treated with suspicion at the very least by his brother. Jim was wont to declare that Blair was the mystical one in the family, therefore any 'hocus pocus' should be dealt with by him.

"That was the name you responded to, man. You were checking me over as only a Blessed Protector would. Did you dream at all last night? Is there something at work bothering you?"

"No and no," Jim pushed himself up in the bed, "At least I don't remember dreaming and you know that work is fine - we're kicking ass and taking names, Chief. A force to be reckoned with."

Jim grinned, pride in their accomplishments overshadowing the freakiness of the sleepwalking, and Blair smiled back, patting the Sentinel on the chest lightly.

"Absolutely," he agreed, then sighed, "Ok, so tonight I'll meditate on this for a while, see if I can come up with a reason for the sleepwalking. At least in the loft you won't come to any harm, and the kids are used to hearing us wander about at night."

"True," Jim held his hand out for the shorts and Blair got up, dropping them into his brothers hand and heading down the stairs to get his son up. They were cleaning and shopping this morning, and this afternoon Tommy's basketball team was in the semi finals against the Grammar school.

0o0o0

"Sleepwalking?" Simon frowned, staring through the windscreen at the darkened house on the corner, "Jim's a sleep walker?"

"For the last two nights, anyway," Blair confirmed gloomily. Tommy's team had won, but one of Blair's cases had called him away from the celebrations to join Simon on stakeout duty. So far, they'd covered the game - Tommy had sunk a basket, though not the winning one - and the twins latest trick on their long suffering mother - namely taking off their dirty nappies and running around the house butt naked while she tried to catch and change them. They'd been sitting there for the last four hours and nothing was happening. Blair was ready to bet that nothing would.

"So what, he gets up and cleans the house?" Simon tried to lighten the mood and Blair snorted at him, shaking his head.

"I wish," the consultant sighed, "Actually he gets up and checks that I'm still breathing. Then he checks out my shoulder and goes back to bed. Last night I tried talking to him, but he would only answer to Enquiri."

"His Chopec name?" Simon shifted uncomfortably, "Ok, even I know that's not good. So what do you want to do? Should I take him off duty? Are you having any visions? And can someone please tell me at what point did I start accepting this crap as normal - I mean listen to me! Visions?"

There was a chuckle from the Shaman in the passengers seat and Simon turned his head to glare at the man. His glare changed to a look of something very close to fear and Blair twisted sharply in his seat as the door opened quietly. He was pinned by that awful blank gaze as a shivering and boxer clad Jim ran his hands over the startled Shaman's chest and then leaned in to listen.

"Holy crap…" Simon breathed, "Holy crap!

Blair squirmed away from the contact, managing to get his feet onto the seat and worming his way between seats into the back of the car, followed by the now growling Sentinel, who pinned him down and started to listen to the wildly beating heart and panicked breaths. Simon called in that he had to abandon the stakeout and arranged the backup team to cover their vantage point. Then he leaned over and shut the front door before starting the engine and pulling away from the curb, heading back for the loft.

In the rear vision mirror he could see Enquiri examining Andarko carefully, cuddling the smaller man close and checking his shoulder out as well as petting the long hair. When he reached for the car door, Andarko growled a no and pinned him to the seat, petting the Sentinel in turn and soothing the worried man into a deep dreamless sleep.

Simon had to help carry Jim upstairs, finding the loft door locked. The children had been in no danger, then, simply alone in the house while one of their caregivers went looking for the other. They put Jim on the couch and Simon went to get a bowl of warm water and some cloths which they could use to clean and dry the wandering man's feet while Blair covered him with the afghan from the couch and then hurried to get a heat pack ready.

Together they checked the sleeping Sentinel over for injuries, and then withdrew to the other couch, neither man ready to let the sleepwalker out of their sight yet. Jim's shivering had abated slowly, and Blair had been relieved that the crisp autumn night hadn't brought on hypothermia. You could still go out without a coat if your clothes were thick, but the loft was almost an hours walk from the stake out, and Jim's thin boxers - his preferred sleepwear in all seasons - were no protection at all. He was lucky no one had seen him and called the cops - Blair couldn't begin to imagine how they'd deal with an arrest for indecent exposure.

"What am I going to do?" Blair moaned, "Simon, what do I do now? He left the children to come looking for me…he'd never leave them unprotected like this - his instincts should have stopped him before he even went out through the door. Jim is even more protective of Clare and Tommy than he is of me!"

"First thing - stop freaking out…Jim needs you thinking and in control right now," Simon replied, looking very much as if he'd like to freak out himself, "Second thing…you may not remember too much about the fountain, but the pattern of wounds that Jim checked over on you… they match exactly the wounds that Alex inflicted. She shot you, grazed your shoulder, and then held you under to drown you."

Blair gaped at him in horror. It was true, most of the events leading to the mad dash to the Temple of Sentinels were a blur to him. Some memory loss was to be expected - he'd been dead and there had been no oxygen flowing to his brain for long enough to start the process of brain death. It was one of the miracles of the fountain that Blair had woken with all his faculties intact and only a minor amount of memory loss. By all rights he should have been too sick to follow his Sentinel to Mexico, he should have been too sick to do anything other than breathe through a tube and maybe blink at his visitors.

"I don't remember much of that time," Blair confessed, stealing a look at the man sleeping on the couch, "And after all this time we haven't discussed it."

"Maybe you should…"

0o0o0

"What?" Jim paled, looking from his boss to his partner. Blair had been pretty tense this morning over breakfast and the kids had picked up on that. Jim had been a little footsore, and a little stiff, but he put that down to sleeping on the couch - and the state of his Guide was putting him off as well. Tommy had watched both the adults very carefully, staying between them and his little sister as much as possible. Clare had stuck with her big brother and both children had escaped with something like sighs of relief when Jim announced that Miki's mother was downstairs to drive them to school.

Simon had called Jim into the office before they'd even had a chance to remove their coats. There had been two cups of coffee waiting for them, and Blair sat between Jim and the door in a reverse of the usual protective manoeuvre that the tall detective usually pulled on his partner.

"It's true, Jim. You can't tell me your feet weren't sore this morning. We're so lucky you were aware enough to avoid traffic and anything that could have cut or stabbed you last night," Blair leaned forward, clutching his cup in both hands, "You have to tell me what's wrong."

"I… I don't know, Chief. Honestly, I don't remember dreaming anything in particular and there hasn't been any visions or visits from the spirit guides. I'd tell you immediately if there had been, you know that."

They'd learned that lesson the hard way, and in light of Simon's words last night, the absence of the spirit guides was beginning to take on an alarming aspect.

"I know," Blair sat back with a sigh and Simon leaned forward on his desk. Jim's reaction hadn't been faked at all, and the next bit of news was guaranteed to put him over the edge.

"There's more," he told his detective, "Last night I watched you check Blair over. You checked the exact pattern of wounds that Alex Barnes left on Blair when she…"

He didn't get a chance to finished that sentence as Jim was out of his seat and wrapped around Blair in a heartbeat, shaking his head in denial and ruthlessly dialling his senses up to scan the area for the rival Sentinel. Blair twisted a little in the tight grip and crooned wordlessly, riding out the surge of Blessed Protector. When Jim had calmed enough to return to his own seat with Blair's warm hand grasped firmly in his, Simon shook his head. There was no way that he could put Jim on the streets right now - he was a danger to himself, let alone others.

"Ok, this has to stop," he frowned, "Sandburg?"

"I don't know, Simon," Blair shook his head, fear and dread dulling his eyes, "I just don't know what to do."

"Well I do," Jim growled, "First thing is to get the kids to safety. They can go stay with Dad for a while, and we'll arrange for a patrol or something to pass the house each night. The next thing is to put you in a safe house, Chief, I won't let her anywhere near you ever again."

"Hold on, Ellison," Simon interrupted the imminent explosion of temper he could see hovering over the Shaman, "I agree that the kids need to get out of the loft for a little while, and if the twins weren't such a handful at the moment I'd offer to take them myself. It makes sense, Sandburg - lets limit the targets she could aim for, and your father should be fully briefed so he knows what to look out for. But I don't agree that you should pack Sandburg off as well. That didn't work too well the first time, and besides, you need to figure out what's going on, and Sandburg's the man to do it."

"How can William defend the kids against Alex? We stay together," Sandburg butted in, slashing his hand to silence Jim, "We can't afford to split up. If she gets hold of the kids she'll kill them. Clare is a threat and Tommy won't obey her for long, if at all."

"The kids can help dad," Jim replied, "Chief… I think it's time we told them about Alex."

There was dead silence in the office, a heavy, cloying silence that seemed to absorb all the air and increase the gravity as well.

"Jim I… I can't," Blair paled, "I don't even remember all of it…"

Their hands were white from the force of their grip. Blair couldn't look either man in the eye. The thought of parading his folly in front of the children made him feel physically ill.

"Chief, we have no choice. They have to be warned. They'd find out sooner or later anyway. Tommy needs to understand the danger to him, and Clare needs to be aware that the rogue Sentinel could upset her grip on her senses."

"We don't even know if we're right," the dry whisper was brittle and hopeless. This was Blair's greatest failure - he'd betrayed his Sentinel and allowed another to not only enter their territory but to almost kill their bond. It had taken years of hard conscious effort to return the bond to the strength and harmony they'd forged in the very beginning.

"I think we are. Simon wouldn't mistake my actions. I trust his insight," the reply was also whispered, but tenderly, supportively. A curly head nodded reluctant acceptance. Simon watched closely as once again Blair took control of his emotions, harnessing them for the battle ahead. If Barnes was loose, they were all in trouble and could ill afford guilt trips or arguments.

"Go get the kids out of school. I'll give William the heads up. We'll come get the kids tonight, after dinner."

0o0o0

They settled on the big couch together, the children between the adults. Jim shifted uneasily and Blair smiled a trifle grimly. Looks like the bulk of the explanation would be down to him. Jim was still not the touchy feely type, and Blair would in fact be worried if his brother changed so much that way. His stoicism was a part of his defences now, and Blair loved him the way he was.

"Ok," he sighed, "There's a problem that we need to talk to you both about. I know that you've noticed that Daddy and I are a little tense and first of all, I want to tell you that it's not your fault, and that we love you both."

"You're not leaving are you Uncle Blair? Who'll be our Patriarch if you go?" Clare's lip trembled and her hand grabbed for her Guide, as if she thought they'd whisk Tommy away from her right there and then. Her instincts were right on the button, Jim reflected grimly, there was a threat to their Guides, and the junior Sentinel was picking up on that. They were lucky Clare wasn't sleepwalking as well.

"No, I'm not going anywhere, and neither is Tommy," Blair promised the little girl, "Look, this is really complicated and a little hard to talk about because it was very scary when it first happened. Just remember that everything is ok now…"

Blair trailed off, unable to think how best to start.

"About thirteen years ago there was a woman who called herself Alex Barnes," Jim took over, "She was a Sentinel just like us, sweetheart, but she didn't have a Guide. Da and I had only been together for three years and we… I was still resisting my gift. We'd had a few rough cases and we were trying to get back on an even keel when she arrived in town."

"Because Alex didn't have a Guide, she was a threat to Daddy's territory, and he started to feel very uncomfortable in his skin and around people, including me," Blair continued on, remembering the fights and miscommunications, "She was arrested because she crashed her car, and I realised that she was a Sentinel…"

Blair stopped, raising stricken eyes to his partner. He'd chosen to help that Sentinel, betraying their bond, risking everything.

"Da tried to tell me about this new Sentinel in town, but I wasn't listening," Jim stroked Clare's hair lightly, "You see I was feeling shut in and trapped. I knew there was a danger, but I didn't know where, and instead of asking Da for help I pushed him away. I was also having nightmares about Da's wolf. I didn't tell him, and I thought I was going to hurt him if things kept going, so I packed all of Da's things up and threw him out of our home."

Tommy gasped and threw his arms around his father. This was a disaster indeed. His father and uncle had always seemed so together, so simpatico that Tommy couldn't imagine anything else. His two parents had welcomed him with open arms and boundless patience after the death of his mother - helping him to rebuild his life. For them to be apart seemed like the end of the world to him.

"No!" Clare squealed, also climbing over to hug Blair as if he would disappear into thin air if his children weren't holding him tightly. Jim shifted too, pulling all three towards him and they hugged each other hard. There was a long moment of silence as Blair petted the three people in his arms and calmed them using his own slow and steady breaths.

"Is that all?" Tommy asked in a quiet voice, fixing his Sentinel's father with a very solemn look. Jim shook his head, but it was Blair who took up the tale again.

"Alex came to see me at my office, and she wanted me to go with her. She'd stolen a very dangerous gas. When I told her no…"

"She hurt Da pretty badly. I found him…we had a vision, where a Shaman called Incacha told me how to help Da get better. He had to go to the hospital and I chased Alex to a special place in Mexico. Da left the hospital to follow us, and we found the Temple of the Sentinels," Jim met Blair's eyes steadily. Maybe they could purge old demons this way - the tale was watered down for the children, but that only meant they spoke the bare truth. No embellishments, unwrapped and simple for them both to say and hear.

"Alex and I went through an initiation," he continued, "And Da was my anchor back to the real world. Because she had no Guide, because she'd tried to kill mine, Alex didn't make it. We settled her in a special sort of hospital where she wouldn't be able to hurt anyone else and came home to Cascade. Da came home to the loft, and we started to rebuild ourselves."

There was a long moment of silence in the loft, and the two men joined their hands, their eyes locked in silent communication. Blair had come home sick, the adrenaline and sheer will power that had carried him to Jim's side gone. His Sentinel had nursed him well, and they'd gone back to work stronger than ever. Two months later Simon had been visited by a private detective who had informed the three men about the death of Amelia. Tommy's arrival had been an added incentive for them to work through their remaining issues and the bond had strengthened as they confirmed their commitment to live and work as a family.

"How badly was Da hurt?" Tommy asked in a little voice, and Jim sighed.

"He hurt his lungs honey - that's why a little cold is so bad for him. And his shoulder and head were hurt too."

"But I'm ok, now," Blair reassured them, "It's ok."

"Why are you telling us now?" Clare asked the next question, while Tommy clutched his father close. The reassuring sound of the Shaman's healthy lungs and heart was resounding in her ears, so she knew that there was no immediate danger to his health at present. The little girl also knew that her parents wouldn't be telling them this without a reason.

"Daddy has been walking in his sleep," Blair sighed, "And when he goes walking he comes and checks me over, to check that the old injuries are all better. Uncle Simon thinks, and I agree, that Alex might be coming back to Cascade. So Uncle Simon is going to check the hospital where we left her, and you two are going to go and stay with your Poppy for a few days until we can sort this all out. Daddy and I are going to stick together and see if we can cure him of his sleep walking."

"You promise not to send Da away?" Tommy begged Jim, "You promise that you'll stay together?"

"I promise, kiddo," Jim nodded, "We'll stay together no matter what."

0o0o0

William smiled at the serious face that answered the door. His granddaughter checked him over carefully, then checked Simon and then the corridor behind them as well before letting them in - she was in full protector mode, something that he was more used to seeing in his eldest son. William knew without a doubt that Jim had been tracking them since they pulled into Prospect.

There were two bags by the door and Tommy was standing next to his father, holding his hand tightly. Normally the boy would have run to give Poppy a hug and welcome him in, that he hadn't done so was an indication of his distress.

Simon realised that the story about Alex and how she'd hurt Blair and Jim had impacted on the young Guide quite strongly. Simon himself had realised that Blair and Amelia had actually died at about the same time, only Blair had come back. He wondered if Tommy had come to a similar conclusion.

"Are you ready to come visit with me for a few days?" William smiled at his grandchildren. Jim came to pull Clare into a hug, his hands running over her head and body lightly, taking a last minute impression of her before swapping Blair for Tommy. The children collected Larry in his travel cage and William nodded to his stony faced sons. Blair handed him a notebook with instructions and reminded Tommy that he was now in charge of Clare, under William's direction.

Simon watched the door close behind the very solemn children, and turned to face his best team. Jim was hanging onto Blair, the Shaman's back pressed to his chest, the Sentinel's arms providing a safe haven. He offered them the only comfort he could, knowing it was inadequate at best.

"They'll be ok," Simon said softly, "She's got no reason to go after them."

"So she is out," Blair's voice was flat and hard. Simon nodded and pulled out the sheaf of notes and faxes he'd brought from his research at the office.

"She had some help - someone broke her out of the hospital and got her out of the country. Before she left she was having one of her 'good spells' according to the staff - she was awake and aware of her surroundings and her sensory perception was on par with a normal persons. They said she had days, even weeks where she'd become comatose - I'd say it was a zone and she pulled herself out of it."

Blair felt a dull pull of sympathy and wrapped his hands around Jim's wrists. His Sentinel could have been in that condition if they hadn't found each other in time. Jim put his face in his Guides curls and just breathed, pulling in the scent and texture of his living healthy Guide. He could still remember the cold weight and scent of the Shaman as he'd been pulled from the fountain. Even when he'd coughed and breathed for his Sentinel he'd been cold and his scent had been all wrong. It had taken a month to return to what Jim considered normal.

"Do we know who helped her?" Blair asked Simon, reading in Jim's actions a reluctance to deal with the present situation. He could allow Jim to escape for now - a part of him was registering the conversation and remembering the salient facts. The rest was immersed in the Guide and Shaman's presence.

"I'm not really sure… I only have a hunch, but you're not gonna like it," Simon warned them. Blair gestured impatiently for Simon to continue.

"Brackett is no longer locked up. I'm not sure when he got out - no one noticed his absence apparently, which says to me he was on the receiving end of some very specialised help. Looks like he still has some solid contacts. Given his obsession with Sentinels and his grudge against you two he may have gone after Alex in order to gain a Sentinel he could control."

"Perfect," Blair sighed and leaned into Jim's embrace.

0o0o0

The Detectives of Major Crimes didn't get their jobs on their good looks. They'd seen Jim and Blair go flying out of Simon's office - both of them wearing the expression that meant trouble with a capital yikes - and then Simon had locked himself away for the rest of the day to make call after call and sent multiple faxes and emails. That added up to trouble in the Triad - as Brown had once called them. The three men were closer than family; whatever had started with Blair's ride along had bound them inextricably. The arrival of children - for all three - had only strengthened that bond.

That bond had been a major source of comfort to the people they worked with. Instead of feeling excluded by it, they had known that they were protected in a way that was never discussed, but always acknowledged. It had freed the men and women of Major Crimes to take on the hardest cases and criminals in the city and come out trumps. The Officer of the Year Award had been won exclusively by Major Crime's personnel for the last twelve years.

Therefore, the atmosphere in Major Crimes was alert, watchful. Simon found them working at higher than peak efficiency and silently blessed them all for it. Jim had settled quietly at his desk, a sure sign that he was aware of the silent support around him, and Blair had grinned knowingly at them all - the Shaman was not subtle in his appreciation. Jim and Blair had both started pulling up records from the database of recent and open investigations - mainly burglaries and auto theft - and the team had left them to it. They'd get their briefing when the Triad had something solid to tell them.

At twelve Simon went for a meeting with the Mayor and Jim went into Blair's office alone to call the children and see how they were doing. William was keeping them at home, and under his personal supervision. The kids were in good spirits, if a little tense and missing their fathers. Tommy had made Jim promise to stick to his Guide, and Clare extracted a similar promise from her father. Jim didn't blame them - the memory of the Shaman Guide's face when Jim had kicked him out was not a pleasant one.

Jim was returning to the bullpen when Blair shuddered and then froze. All activity in the bullpen came to screeching halt as the men and women of Major Crimes realised that something was wrong. All eyes were glued to Sandburg as Ellison approached his partner slowly, a single look asking what was wrong. The single word breathed through bloodless lips explained it all.

"Simon…"

0o0o0

They found Simon's car in a siding heading out of Cascade. Its doors were open and the engine still running - that was what had prompted a passing motorists call to 911. The patrol had recognised the plates and called it in just as Joel was putting out the unofficial APB. There was no damage to the car, though there were faint skid marks on the road that suggested the Captain had braked hard and swerved to avoid an obstacle.

"I don't know, Chief," Jim growled, scanning the area around the car and the interior as well, "Whoever took Simon was the most generic person on the planet."

"Ok," Blair nodded, "Ignore the scents and personal traces for a moment. What made Simon brake like that? Why did he get out of the car?"

"If he'd just avoided a run in with a careless driver he'd have got out to ticket them at the very least," Jim reminded his brother, "In fact, he carried a set of forms for just that reason in the glove box."

"But the glove box hasn't been disturbed," Blair pointed out, "And his pen is still clipped to the stack of files on the floor in the passenger foot well. He didn't stop to give someone a ticket…can you find any tracks that show where he might have gone?"

"The ground is pretty chewed up here," Jim frowned, "And where its not chewed up its solid. I haven't got x-ray vision you know."

Blair just looked at him, his face expressionless. After a minute of that Jim was shifting uneasily and avoiding his Shaman's eye. With a sigh that Rhonda probably heard in the office Jim headed into the woods to look for any indication of Simon's passage through the undergrowth. Blair followed behind, grinning on the inside. His Sentinel had yet to resist that 'you're disappointing me and being a fool' look. He'd been using it on his brother from the very beginning - there had been days when that was the only way he could get Jim to stop griping and get on with it. Brown saw them go and nudged his partner, indicating they should follow the other two men. Rafe looked at his shoes, then the woods and rolled his eyes before moving out smartly.

"Ok," Jim stopped and crouched, pointing to the ground, "Simon was here…he was running - no jogging along. There's a second set of footprints here…looks like a kids."

"So Simon brakes to avoid a kid that runs out in front of him and then follows the kid into the woods to find out if its ok," Blair glanced at the tracks, "That would explain why there's no trace of Simon's abductors at the car…he wasn't taken at the car, he was taken somewhere in here."

"Yep," Jim nodded, then raised his voice, "Brown, Rafe, one of you check with dispatch, see if there are any reports of kids playing on the roads out this way."

Rafe dropped back at Brown's signal, neither man questioning Jim's knowledge of their presence. Major Crimes had long ago accepted their colleague's gifts. Brown followed along quietly, not trying to close the gap between them. These two required privacy for their gifts to be effective.

They walked on in silence, Jim moving with the effortless grace of a hunter, Blair shadowing him expertly, directing without intruding. After ten minutes they reached a fire access road, and Jim stood still for a moment then began to sneeze explosively. Blair rubbed his shoulder, speaking quietly as he scanned the area suspiciously. Sage so strong that even Blair could smell it was clouding his Sentinel's abilities.

Before he could draw the gun he reluctantly carried there was a loud bang and a flash of light so bright that even Blair's unenhanced senses were left reeling in shocked pain. This was followed by a cloud of gas that had him choking for air even as he fought to protect his now unconscious partner. Jim had hit the ground like a load of bricks the minute the first whiff of gas had reached him. Blair fell across his brothers inert body, the gun falling from his hand as consciousness fled. He never felt the hands that grabbed him.

In the woods, Brown had been far enough back to avoid the worst of the stun grenade and tear gas. He called for help on his cell, hating himself for not running forward to protect his friends and comrades. However, he knew that he was their only chance of rescue - if he was caught he couldn't help them and it was likely that he'd be killed outright as an unwanted hostage anyway - the Triad were definitely the targets here. If he could get the details needed to his colleagues out on the roads they would have a better chance of retrieving all three men later.

Still, it was hard to watch Jim bundled into the back of the beat up van, followed by Blair - who was slung inside carelessly by the two masked and gloved men. The van took off with a screech of the engine and a cloud of dust.

0o0o0

Simon's head hurt. He'd been hit hard enough to knock him out for a short while, but his vision was clear and he didn't feel any blood trickling from the lump on his forehead. His wrists were cuffed together in front of him, secured through a loop in his belt, and he was sprawled back in what felt like a dentists chair. Simon frowned, turning his head carefully to look around. He kept firmly in mind that David Lash was dead - killed by the Sentinel of the Great City in defence of his Shaman. He'd never seen terror the like of which Blair showed when faced with a trip to the dentist after THAT little episode, and never wanted to again.

The chair was sitting in a dusty room - in fact it looked like a dentists office. Simon tried to think of any medical centres or clinics that had been shut down in the city area, but his head hurt too much and after a moment he lay still again. With the chair reclined at this angle and his hands cuffed as they were Simon couldn't get out of the chair without rolling off it to the floor, and he'd seen enough to know that would be a fair drop. In his current condition he'd likely black out again, and that wouldn't help his escape attempt. Better to wait a little, until the dizziness and nausea subsided.

Thoughts of Lash and Jim led Simon to straining his own unenhanced senses for any clues to his location or the number of people who had him. It was too much of a coincidence that he'd been abducted while this whole situation with Alex was going on. She was here somewhere - and he was the bait for Jim and Blair's capture. He'd noticed that when the men were split up they became even more cautious - up to a point of course, if their partner was in immediate danger Jim and Blair could be the living embodiment of reckless abandon - but when they were together and working to rescue a member of the tribe the two men tended towards a certain amount of arrogance. As a team they had come to see themselves as unstoppable and to a point they were, but with Simon missing and a pair of lethal rogues in their territory the Sentinel and Shaman would switch over to what Simon privately called hunting mode - cold determination coupled with a belief in their own powers that usually mowed the opposition down before they could get started. Unfortunately, Simon had a feeling that Alex was no longer the unstable Sentinel she had once been. From what Blair had said about Brackett's fascination with Sentinel's and the role of the Guide - a term he had coined - Simon had the sneaking suspicion that Brackett was himself a Guide, and looking for his own Sentinel. Unfortunately, it looked like he'd found one as amoral as himself.

Footsteps sounded in the corridor and Simon turned his head towards the door carefully. The pain was subsiding a little, though he'd kill for an aspirin. The doorknob jiggled and then rattled as it was unlocked. It swung open and Alex stepped into the frame, smiling at Simon in a truly sickening manner. She was a little thinner than he remembered and her lightly muscled physique had faded with her incarceration. Her hair was cut short, almost in a buzz cut, and her skin was mostly pale. A few red blotches marred her arms and neck - allergic reactions to something she'd come in contact with recently.

"Barnes," Simon greeted her coldly, "Or is it Bannister?"

"Barnes will do," she cooed at him, lifting her head a little and breathing in deeply. Simon held still as her eyes swept over him from head to toe, Sentinel scrutiny missing nothing. He'd seen Jim do this before, and so he knew that she was cataloguing his condition in minute detail, storing the data away for later comparison. She frowned and stepped lightly into the room, her fingers reaching out to barely ghost over the lump on his temple. Simon pulled away, scowling at her and she growled a little, immobilising his head with one hand while she checked him over more thoroughly.

"Hurt…" her voice trailed off and she looked down at him, her face dissatisfied. She looked around the room vaguely and then headed out the door again, leaving it open as her footsteps receded rapidly. Unable to believe his luck, Simon jack-knifed his body , swinging his legs wildly to land on the floor feet first. He collapsed to his knees with a grunt, the stinging in his knee caps making him sweat a little as he tried to get his feet under him and get to the door.

Alex came thundering down the corridor and into the room, her hand latching onto his collar, her thighs pressing into his back as she scanned the room aggressively. When she was sure there was no one else in the room she turned her attention to Simon, holstering her gun in the small of her back and hauling him upright. He couldn't get back into the dentists chair, which had been raised to its maximum height, and she looked around in frustration before hauling him out of the room by the arm, tugging him along the corridor to a small darkened room that boasted a cot along one wall. Simon was laid down and then he heard her rip a blanket into strips. Before he could think of fighting her, Barnes fist crashed into his solar plexus, winding him thoroughly. Moments later his ankles were secured together with a strip of blanket and then anchored to one of the cot legs for good measure while he whooped for breath.

Alex patted his shoulder gently, waiting until he had regained his breath to disappear again. Simon's head was spinning again and he lay still, breathing slowly to combat the nausea and the pain in his gut. The doorway darkened again and he was lifted with one arm. A strong hand pried his mouth open and popped two pills in, followed by a stream of water that had him choking and swallowing reflexively lest he drown.

"Aspirin," Alex cooed and then bent her head to snuffle and lick his neck, "Good."

Simon found himself laid back on the cot and the torn blanket tucked over him lightly. Alex stroked his face, neck and chest for a few minutes, sniffing loudly. Then she nodded and got up, locking the door behind her.

Simon listened to her footsteps recede, stunned by what had just had happened. He'd seen this exact same behaviour in another Sentinel - minus the bondage - when the man had been caring for his injured or ill partner. But Blair was the Shaman Guide. Jim had taken care of Simon the few times he'd been injured in the field, and although he'd monitored his Captain's condition closely, he'd never felt the need to scent, taste and touch so blatantly. That was reserved exclusively for Blair - not even the children were cosseted to this degree.

Simon's blood ran cold. There was now a second reason for his abduction. Alex wasn't bonded to Brackett at all - instead, she had retrieved the person she thought was her Guide…him…in the words of his civilian consultant, this sucked.

Big time.

0o0o0

Blair moaned in pain. His shoulder hurt pretty badly, and his knee was on fire. There was a heavy, inert weight pinning him to the cold rough concrete beneath his cheek. Someone was breathing into the hair at the nape of his neck. Whoever it was, they were moaning slightly with each exhalation - it sounded like they were in as much pain as he was.

It was totally dark when Blair opened his eyes and for a panic stricken moment he thought he was blind. Then his eyes adjusted and he saw a glimmer of light in the distance - it looked like there was a door over there somewhere. Memory returned with a rush and Blair jerked in shock, moaning in pain when his body complained bitterly at the sudden and ill-advised movement.

"Jim…" the name was spoken in a slow hiss and garnered no response from the man on his back. Gritting his teeth and steeling himself for the pain, Blair rolled to one side, feeling Jim roll off onto the floor and onto his own back. Desperately hoping that he hadn't just compounded any of Jim's injuries Blair levered himself upright and ran careful hands over the body beside him. He sat back with a soft sigh of relief - no blood or breaks that he could detect and the skin of his Sentinel was cool but not clammy. Whatever was hurting Jim was Sentinel related then, not a result of some gross or mortal injury.

"Ok, big guy," Blair made his voice calm and free of pain, soothing and warm, "I'm guessing that your senses are in a pretty painful place right now, huh? Whatever else was in that sage and smoke combination probably put the dials right over the top…so we're going to take control of them and put them back where they belong for you. I guess you've been trying to do that for yourself for a while now, so you're pretty frustrated. First things first, Jim. I want you to ignore everything but my voice and my hand on your skin."

Blair put his hand on the bare forearm that he'd just checked for damage and waited for a few seconds, letting Jim get used to the contact.

"We kinda lucked out partner, because when they put us in here they dropped you on top of me…that means you've been in contact with the baseline for your senses ever since we got here, which is what kept you from losing it all together. Now I just want you to breathe for me Jim, while I help you rebalance your senses. Go to the peaceful place we visit together and just breathe. All you feel is my hand on your skin and all you hear is the warmth of my voice."

The breathing of the man prostrate beside him slowed and evened and the moans stopped. Blair breathed a silent thanks to the deity's that watched over his Sentinel and took a few cleansing breaths himself. The pain from his knee and shoulder were distracting, but he did the best he could to push it aside. Once he got Jim stable he could see to his own needs.

"Ok, I'm betting that you're pretty tired so I want you to just relax completely. I'm going to try something new, Jim. You know that the dials work…even though right now they're being pretty stubborn for you…so I want you to let me turn them instead…we'll start with touch…feel my fingers on the dial, Jim…feel me grasp it lightly…feel me turn it down…down from overload to hyper…down from hyper to sensitive…down from sensitive to normal…"

With each turn of the imaginary dial Blair swirled his fingers lightly anti-clockwise on the skin beneath his fingers. When he got to 'normal' there was a sigh of relief from the man beside him and a slight loosening of taut muscles. Pleased that the new imagery was working - Guide Dials - Blair talked Jim through the turning down of hearing, taste, smell and sight. He let the now limp Sentinel rest for a long moment, regaining his strength, then brought Jim up out of the trance to full awareness.

"Chief?" his partner sounded pretty groggy and Blair smiled in his direction. Though there was light coming from that doorway it wasn't bright enough for him to see his brothers' face.

"Yeah, Jim, I'm here…how do you feel?"

"A little…raw," Jim rubbed his stinging eyes and sighed, "Looks like we walked right into their hands."

"Uh huh," Blair sighed too, "Are you hurt anywhere? I did a body check, but it's too dark in here for me to see anything."

"Uh…no, just a sore head from whatever was in that gas, and a runny nose from the sage," Jim replied after a long moment. Blair's heartbeat settled down again and he nodded, running his good hand over his painful shoulder. It wasn't dislocated, so he resigned himself to a big bruise or a break. He reached his hand cautiously to his knee and jerked it back with a hiss as raw agony flooded his body.

Jim was up in a flash, pushing him to lie flat, Sentinel sensitive fingers tracing the jean-clad leg with a pressure so light as to almost not be there.

"Dislocated," Jim growled the diagnosis, angry he hadn't smelled the pain and distress coming from the Shaman Guide sooner, "I've got to put it back, Chief…"

"Great," Blair sighed, "It's ok, Jim. I trust you."

Jim nodded and took off their belts, moving around surely in the minimal light. He realised that his brother was effectively blind, which made it better in a way…Jim moved quickly and without warning, putting tension on the joint and guiding it back into place. Blair screamed once and then passed into blessed oblivion.

Once he was sure the knee was back in place and strapped with strips from their shirts - there being no handy plane seats this time, and yes, it was the same knee - Jim went on a further voyage of discovery, diagnosing a hairline fracture to Blair's collarbone. He strapped the arm to Blair's chest with a belt and then sat back, stroking lightly over his Shaman's hair and face, waiting for him to recover. While he waited the Sentinel played lightly with the dials, gathering as much information as he could about their prison and guards.

Outwardly he seemed calm and controlled, but inwardly he was seething with rage. While he was unhurt - the reaction had been very distressing but not permanently disabling, as Blair had proven - it was obvious that the same care had not been extended to his Guide's person. Someone had deemed Blair expendable, or at least replaceable, and whoever it was would discover to their chagrin that they were very wrong.

Dead wrong. Literally.

0o0o0

William hung up the phone heavily and looked down at the floor, letting it blur out of focus for a long moment, getting his breathing and heart back under his control. He couldn't face the children reeking of fear and despair - Blair's notes had made it very clear that his granddaughter had subconsciously catalogued the scents of her family and would instinctively react to any distress she detected. The children were tense enough as it was, though at the moment they were playing happily enough in the conservatory. They didn't need his fear added to their burdens.

Both his sons were gone without a trace, and Simon Banks as well, a man that William had come to see as a very good friend. Someone was heading over to his house now to be with his wife and babies. William made a note to contact her later tonight to ensure she knew he would help her any way he could.

"Poppy?" Tommy's voice startled him, but he turned smoothly, bringing a smile to his face. The slender pre teen stood in the door to his study, regarding him solemnly. For a moment William contrasted the three-year-old baby who had named him 'Poppy' with the gangly youth in front of him.

"Was that Da?" Tommy stepped into the room, his eyes never leaving his Poppy's face. Any lie would be detected instantly - he'd inherited his father's instincts, as well as his grace and speed. William would have to answer carefully if he was to avoid upsetting his grandson.

"No," William shook his head, "It wasn't. Did you need something?"

"No," Tommy looked back at the door, "I came up to get a book from my bag."

"Ok," William nodded and Tommy gave him a last, considering look before walking back through the door and turning in the direction of the stairs. William was not fooled. His grandson had let him off the hook for now, but Tommy would be monitoring the situation closely now. He was his father's child all right.

0o0o0

"ouch," the miserable whisper drifted to Jim's alert ears and he smiled slightly in the dark.

"You can say that again," he agreed, stroking Blair's temple, relieved that his Guide had finally woken. In truth, Blair had only been out for a few minutes, Mother Nature's way of helping humans cope with extreme pain, but any loss of consciousness was alarming to the Sentinel.

"ouch," Blair repeated obediently and Jim chuckled dutifully, moving automatically to help his partner to sit up. At one time he would have argued against the move - now he knew to save his energy for later. He shifted around on the floor so that Blair was between his legs, back to chest, supported a little if not comfortable.

"ok, what do we know and…."

"What can we make up?" Jim completed the old adage, wrapping Blair loosely in his arms, "Well for starters there's a wall about five meters to our left. If I lean against it and you lean against me we'll be more comfortable and in a better position to defend ourselves."

Blair sighed, but nodded, letting Jim arrange his limbs in the best position and breathing deeply as his brother dragged him into position. Jim was still feeling a little off balance and didn't want to risk dropping his precious burden in the move, otherwise he'd have lifted Blair in his arms. When they had settled again, Jim told his Guide that they were in an abandoned hospital complex - most likely the one twenty miles out of Cascades limits that had been set up as a free clinic by some entrepreneur. He had lost his money in a risky investment, and the clinic had been unable to find another patron. There were at least ten other men in the large and mostly intact building, all armed and in constant radio contact with each other. Jim and Blair were currently being housed in one of the large linen storage areas in the basement. The building itself was four storey's high. Brackett was one of the ten men, and Alex Barnes was here too. Jim could feel her all over his body, an itch he couldn't scratch. This time, he knew what was causing it and simply held Blair closer.

"So, Simon was simply the bait for the trap," Blair sighed, "Have you heard anything from him? Is he here too?"

"Yeah, he's on the fourth floor, and his heart rate sounds pretty good," Jim nosed through the sweaty curls in front of him idly, using the scent to combat the stale air and old smells of medicine and illness that clung to the building. If it was bothering him, then it must be worse for Alex. She didn't have the luxury of a Guide.

"So why is he still here?" Blair mused aloud, letting Jim position him any way the larger man wanted. His Sentinel needed to feel he was at least contributing to Blair's comfort, though nothing short of some pain meds and an ice pack could really do that now.

"I mean, if they only wanted him for bait…these are not people who would be squeamish about killing a man - not even a high ranking cop like Simon," he continued and Jim grunted acknowledgement.

"Continued leverage, perhaps?" Jim suggested and felt Blair shrug his good shoulder.

"Maybe," Blair sighed, "Jim, you might as well know…Simon and I have a theory about Brackett. He was extremely interested in you, how your senses worked and what you did to control them. We thought that maybe he was a Guide…you know, a latent one or something. I'm…hoping that he won't try to break us apart, so he can gain control of you."

"He's shit outta luck, then," Jim replied, his voice cold and stony, "Because all Guides have a special touch…it's what distinguishes them from the rest of the people I touch every day. And I've only ever come across four examples of it. You and Tommy, Kowalski from Chicago and…"

"And?" Blair tipped his head back in a futile effort to see the man behind him. Jim's formerly comfortable body had gone rigid in surprise, and Blair tried to figure out who could have startled his Sentinel like that, "Wait a minute…Simon?"

"He's a Guide…a latent one…not as strong as you or Tommy, but…" Jim couldn't believe he'd never noticed this before. He knew that Simon was able to break through a zone out and knew a lot about Sentinel's, but he'd always put that down to the knowledge he gained from Blair's work and teachings.

"That explains a lot," Blair mused, "Especially why he's still around…Alex must be protecting him."

"But if Brackett was looking for a Sentinel, why isn't he trying to be her Guide? Why does he want me?" Jim asked, confused by the revelations of the last few minutes.

"You've never failed…you've never been overloaded to catatonia by the senses…he must think that you're the more viable specimen," Blair shook his head in frustration, "He's using her to get to us, and if he can't break our bond, he has a back up Sentinel."

Silence reigned.

0o0o0

Tommy slipped into Clare's room and smiled when she reached out a hand and tapped the bedside lamp. It turned on to its lowest setting, giving Tommy enough light to see where he was going and yet low enough not to hurt sensitive eyes. Tommy slipped onto the edge of her bed and switched off the white noise generator as she sat up, her eyes fixed firmly on his face.

"What's wrong?" she asked in a soft voice. Tommy felt a tug of affection for his Sentinel, her long blonde hair tumbled around her face and flattened on one side from the pillow. Their Poppy had been a little pre occupied all day - ever since Tommy had interrupted that phone call downstairs. Both children had noticed but neither had said anything to the other.

"Clare, I want you to listen in to Poppy for a minute," Tommy said softly, "I know that Da said that we shouldn't be invading other peoples privacy. But I've got a funny feeling that something's happened to Da and Daddy…."

"Me too," she nodded, "It's ok Tommy. If Poppy is talking to his friends or about work I'll listen out again."

Tommy nodded and scooted closer to his Sentinel. He took her hand and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. The touch steadied her as she took calm, deliberate breaths and tilted her head a little as she sent her hearing past her bedroom door and down the stair to their Poppy's study. The children had kissed him goodnight only an hour ago, before going up the stairs to sleep. It was unlikely that he would have gone to bed for the night so early, especially with the situation between their fathers what it was.

"He's on the phone," Clare confirmed for her Guide, "He's talking to Uncle Steven…oh no! Tommy, Daddy and Da are gone! They were trying to help uncle Simon when the bad Sentinel took him, and they're gone too!"

Tommy felt his young insides turn to ice, but rallied to steady his little sister. They hugged each other close, the junior Sentinel's hearing back inside her bedroom, too upset to continue her eavesdropping.

"Shhh, it's ok, Clare," Tommy patted her back, "We'll get them back."

"How?" Clare demanded, leaning back from the hug, "You know that Poppy isn't going to let us go out now…especially with Daddy missing."

"So we sneak out," Tommy insisted, "Not right now of course…we have to find out more information first, like where they were last, and how to get there."

"How will we do that?" Clare frowned, "Its not like we can just walk up to Poppy and ask."

"Let me think about it," Tommy shifted on the bed, "Shift over and lie down again. I'll wake you up when I have a plan."

"I'm not tired," a very mulish expression moved over Clare's face and Tommy sighed. His Sentinel's father had unfortunately passed on some very stubborn behaviour. He gave her his best imitation of Da's glare and was relieved when she gave in, lying down and letting him join her under the blankets. She rolled and put her head on his chest, seeking out his heartbeat, and three minutes later she was fast asleep.

Tommy stared up at the ceiling, his mind whirling with plans and ideas.

0o0o0

Simon pulled his now raw wrist free from the cuff with a feral grin of triumph. If he'd been paying better attention the first time he came round he'd have thought to try the cuffs, which had been fastened loosely according to Sentinel over protectiveness. Though it was a long, hard, and painful pull, Simon had managed to get his left hand free. He fumbled the cuff through the belt and sat up, both hands free and attacking the knots at his ankles. He'd figured that Alex was either out somewhere or her hearing was offline, otherwise she'd have been in here earlier when his vitals changed in response to the pain from pulling on the cuffs. Either way, now was a good time to get the hell out of dodge…or wherever this place was.

Feet freed, Simon creaked his way upright, his bruised knees protesting bitterly at the abuse. He mentally told them to stop whining and carefully tried the door. It wasn't locked and the corridor was clear. It was a moment's work to pad quietly to the emergency stairs and head down them, listening carefully and pausing above each landing to scope out the terrain.

At the fourth landing - halfway down the building, Simon thought - there was a shadowy movement and then Jim's jag stepped into his path. Simon froze in horror. Though he'd heard the Sentinel and Guide discuss the spirit guides, he'd never seen them himself, and he'd been happy about it. Seeing spirit guides only occurred when things were about to hit the fan big time, and Simon had never really been more than a bit part player in the Sentinel world - or so he'd like to have thought.

The jag trotted daintily up the stairs, stepping with the precise grace of a powerful predator. It sniffed him over carefully, growling when it came to his bloodied wrist, and again when it detected a particular scent on his clothes.

"Easy there," Simon breathed warily and the jag butted his thigh in commiseration. A second movement in the shadows and the wolf slipped into sight, limping a little, but moving with purpose and determination. If Blair's spirit guide was injured then the chances were the Shaman was also hurt, which would put the Sentinel into a VERY bad mood. The wolf also sniffed him over and whined low in its throat, licking his wounded wrist. The stinging from the deep welts faded away to blissful numbness and Simon's eyes widened.

"Thanks," he whispered and the wolf nudged the jag for a moment before the shadows stirred a third time. A cougar stepped slowly into the dim light and moved to stand beside the jag. It sniffed him over as well, then moved to lean into his leg. Simon took this to mean it was his spirit guide and brushed his fingers over it lightly before straightening. If the guides were here, then chances are the people they represented were too.

"Lead the way," Simon whispered again and the jag chuffed lightly, turning to pad down the stairs, followed by the wolf. The cougar remained at his side and Simon shook his head briefly before moving on. Things were never dull when you worked with Ellison and Sandburg.

0o0o0

"Simon's just outside," Jim whispered softly in Blair's ear and then covered his Shaman's eyes. Bair had been still and silent for the last hour or so, but Jim knew he was conscious so the Sentinel hadn't panicked too much. He dialled his sight down to compensate for the sudden influx of light that was about to spill into their prison.

"I've been guiding him," Blair admitted, "His spirit guide is with ours."

That explained it. The spirit walk would let Blair help Simon out, and also kept Jim from getting too restless about being stuck here. With his senses still raw and stinging from the combination of drugs used on him, Jim was not up for actively fighting his way out of the room and up to Simon, then leading them out of the building. This way he'd only need to worry about getting them out of here - as stealthily as possible.

The door opened slowly and Simon blocked the light for a moment. Jim got into a squat and powered up off the floor, bringing Blair with him. Simon stayed in the doorway, blocked from further entry by the cougar at his side. Jim shuffled Blair around so that he was supported as best as possible, then headed for the door. The sour smell of pain was tainting the air, but Jim dialled it down ruthlessly. He couldn't afford the distraction.

"Broken collar bone and dislocated knee," Jim whispered as they neared Simon. Blair rolled his eyes at Simon and sighed. Trust Jim to dob him in the moment there was someone else in whispering range.

"You ok?" he asked their boss, who nodded reluctantly. Blair noted the cuff attached to one wrist, the other cuff on the same hands knuckles. He didn't envy anyone who got punched with that hand.

"Yeah, but we have a problem. Barnes thinks she's found her Guide in me," the fear in that simple statement tugged at Blair's heart. Simon had always been a reluctant part of their triad, especially in the beginning. Now a Sentinel that Simon actively dislikes - even hated - was trying to bond with him.

"Not gonna happen," Blair told his friend, "Your abilities are mostly latent and the bond requires the permission of the Guide for it to form fully. Have you given it?"

"No!" the whisper was venomous, and Blair smiled in reply, seeing some of the tension leave Simon's shoulders. They could deal with the rest of this at a later date - when Barnes and Brackett were locked up safely somewhere.

"Let's go…Brackett is going to come down here in about thirty minutes to start 'persuading' me," Jim whispered, and saw the jag at the entrance to the stairs. The wolf was beside it and he nodded to the animals. They slipped into the stairwell and out of sight, scouting ahead. He hefted Blair gently against his side and followed.

0o0o0

Clare woke early in the morning and looked up at Tommy's sleeping face. For a moment she revelled in the close contact between Sentinel and Guide - the heady mixture of their scents and warmth, the ease of the body that was cuddling hers. She'd slept with her head above his heart, and the soothing sound had deepened her sleep restfully.

Tommy stirred and woke, his arm around Clare tightening for a moment. She leaned up and rubbed her face against his before sitting up, letting him sit up too.

"Good morning," Clare whispered, "What's the plan?"

"We need to get Poppy to tell us the truth. Then he can drive up to where Da and Daddy were taken. Once we're there, you can follow their scents and tracks till we get to wherever they've been taken."

"Do you think Poppy will go along with it?" Clare asked doubtfully and Tommy nodded, his face set and determined.

"He has to."

The young Guide got up and led his Sentinel to the bathroom, making sure she was washed and ready for the day. He dressed them both in sturdy boots, jeans and sweaters, adding their waterproof coats to the pile of clothes on the bed. He braided Clare's hair into a single long plait that could be tucked inside her jacket and made sure they had the usual hankies, gloves and knitted caps. He added the scarves that Da had knitted his family at the last moment.

They walked down the stairs together and put their things beside the door. In the hall closet were their backpacks, which they took to Sally in the kitchen for fruit, water and energy bars. These were also placed by the door before going in to breakfast with Poppy.

One look at the very determined faces in front of him and he knew there was something afoot.

0o0o0

William Ellison pulled the car over on the edge of the dirt road and wound down the windows. The children were well wrapped up, so he didn't have to worry about them catching a chill. He wondered, for the twentieth time in as many minutes how the hell he'd been talked into this. Tommy had been unstoppable in his relentless demand that they assist their fathers. Clare had double-teamed her grandfather seamlessly with her brother, and the next thing William knew they were out the door and in the car.

"Very, very slowly, Clare, I want you to dial up your sense of smell. From the way Uncle H said Daddy was sneezing we know that there was sage in whatever they used to get them. I want you to ignore everything else and look for the sage," Tommy's voice was an eerie copy of his fathers - the Shaman Guide had trained his son well. The fact that Tommy was making sure that Clare didn't just open her senses to the max alerted William that the Guide was worried about side effects of the rest of the gas on his young Sentinel.

"Got it," Clare announced and pointed further down the road, "That way, Poppy."

William started the car up and drove slowly in the direction indicated. At Tommy's directions he stopped at each junction they came to and let Clare recall the scent. They followed it for about twelve miles, along a series of fire roads and access roads, until they reached a familiar building. William frowned at the closed free clinic and then sighed. It was the perfect hideout - a four storey building in reasonable repair that had been fenced off pretty comprehensively. There was a large clear area around it and the windows on the top floor made excellent vantage points.

William had recently been approached for funding to reopen the clinic - and he'd been considering the matter very carefully. One of the problems with the place was its distance from Cascade. If you were in need of free medical treatment, you often couldn't afford the taxi ride out here in the first place, and buses just didn't come out this far. The only other alternative was to drive yourself - and the elderly people of the city that patronised this service often didn't have a car.

He pushed all this back in his mind and glanced over his shoulder at his grandchildren. They had warned him to stop while the car was still under the cover of trees, and then gotten out and walked the short distance to bring the place in sight. Clare was listening hard, her face screwed up in concentration as she worked to breach the walls of the old buildings.

"I hear him! I hear Da - he's whispering to Daddy! They're getting out with Uncle Simon - come on, Poppy, I know where we can meet them!" she exclaimed and Tommy swung around to run back to the car with her, leaving William to scramble in their wake. He started the car and backed up slowly, careful not to make any dust trails that could alert someone to their presence. He fumbled out his cell phone and hit the speed dial for Joel Taggert. Joel had hinted that if they came up with any ideas 'no matter how out there' he should call and pass it on. Though his son's colleagues were never officially informed of the Sentinel and Shaman in their midst, they were too smart not to have noticed that there was something going on. It was simply never spoken of.

Information passed on, he followed Clare's excited directions, swinging around the ex-hospital in a wide arc. He could tell that there was something bothering the little girl from the way she kept glancing at her brother when she thought he wasn't looking. Tommy had picked up on that too and was tense as he looked out of the windows, trying to spot their parents and Uncle. The tension was rapidly approaching the unbearable stage when Tommy fixed Clare with a steady look.

"What's wrong?" he asked, and Clare rubbed her hands on her knees.

"I think that other Sentinel is nearby - I feel all tingly. It's like there's not enough air…"

William swallowed a curse and upped his speed a little. Clare didn't say any more, and Tommy merely latched a hand in her jacket, letting her know that he was there, and not leaving any time soon. Three minutes later, Clare shouted stop and then called her father out of concealment. William leapt out to help get Blair settled in the front seat - there would be no squishing his youngest son into close quarters this time around - and then put the car in gear again, increasing their speed to get clear of the enemy Sentinel's territory.

0o0o0

Taggert met them at the lay-by where Simon had been taken. He had an ambulance with him and enough back up for world war three. Blair was loaded into the ambulance by a fretting Jim and William promised to take Clare and Tommy straight to the hospital, where Taggert informed them they would be met by a bunch of uniformed officers who would see to their safety.

Simon held Jim's wrist in his hand lightly, rubbing his thumb over the pulse in a soothing fashion. It was an automatic gesture - one he'd learned from Sandburg. The hike out of the hospital - with Jim's senses unsettled and Blair's injuries there was no way it could be called a dash - had given Simon time to think. Over ten years ago he'd met the team of Sentinel and Guide, and watched them accept the role that genetics and fate had dealt them; enthusiastically in Blair's case, reluctantly at first in Jim's. Now he had been given confirmation in his part in their lives. He could accept it or run away from it. Simon Edward Banks was no coward - he'd never run from a challenge in his life, and he wasn't about to start now. The Sentinel of the Great City needed a Guide to help him catch their prey. Simon was just the man for the job.

"C'mon Jim, lets get these numb nuts," Simon urged in a low voice, "The sooner we get this wrapped up, the sooner you'll be with them."

Jim nodded and took a deep breath, his posture straightening, and the lines in his face smoothing out. The years had been kind to Jim Ellison - who'd always asserted that Blair kept him young. Joel handed them vests and guns, and Simon led Jim to the cruiser with the maps spread out on it.

Together, the two men outlined the layout of the hospital, the placement of Brackett's defences and the number of people that the PD could expect to offer resistance. Jim outlined the best way to get their people into the hospital and how to immobilise their opponents. Gas masks were issued as a precaution, and Simon led the way to Taggert's car. The former bomb squad captain would drive the two of them, and Jim spent the trip testing handcuff keys to get Simon's 'bracelet' off.

"Ok, Jim, any surprises?" Simon asked quietly, rubbing Jim's forearm lightly and winding down the window. Jim's head tilted a little and his mouth opened, taking in the air to allow his sense of smell to combine with taste.

"No," Jim said after a long moment, "No gas, chemicals, or explosives. Just lots of guns."

"That, we can deal with," Taggert said from the front seat. His voice was a comfortable tone, not at all phased by what he'd just seen. Jim nodded quietly at his colleague and leaned into Simon's solid touch, relieved that the smell of his current Guide was untainted by pain. Alex's scent markers were rapidly fading on Simon's clothes - overlaid to some extent by the scent of Blair and himself.

"Right, lets do this," Simon said, accepting Jim's weight easily.

0o0o0

Tommy sat beside Clare and held her hand, talking to her softly to keep her grounded. As much as he wanted to know if his Da was going to be alright, he knew better than to ask his young sister to listen in on the often-gruesome terms the doctors used to describe their patients injuries. Poppy was sitting on Clare's other side, watching the door intently, while a couple of the uniformed men and women from Central precinct stood nearby, watching over them all.

"Poppy, do you think the doctors will come out soon?" Clare asked after a moment.

"Sure, honey," William replied, "We just have to be patient, ok? We want them to be sure that they've taken the very best care of him - and we can't rush them."

"Ok," Clare sighed, and leaned into Tommy. Her guide was positively vibrating with tension. He hadn't had time to do more than lean forward and brush his father's shoulder with his hand, though Da had turned his head and smiled at his son sweetly. Tommy sighed and leaned his cheek onto her sleek hair.

"Hey, Tommy," William leaned over to look at his grandson, "You did a great job today. You and Clare were fantastic. Your parents would be very proud of the way you handled your gifts. I'm proud of you too."

"Thanks," Tommy whispered softly, "Clare was great at her using her senses - she did it just like we were taught."

"Thanks Tommy," Clare snuggled in. She was very tired, they'd been up late and the extended use of her senses today had tapped her energy reserves quite a lot. Tommy put his arm around her and concentrated on his breathing.

Until Daddy turned up, or Da's doctors came out he'd have to keep his cool - Clare was in his charge… Da had said so.

0o0o0

Simon grinned at the men being escorted into the police vehicles. They'd been taken without a shot, and Brackett had been cornered on the top floor with Barnes. She was locked into a deep zone out that Brackett was trying desperately to break. Simon had stayed back and silent - just in case he really was supposed to be Alicia Bannister's destined Guide. If she got herself back online, it would be difficult to keep her in custody.

Bannister was being loaded into the correctional van on a stretcher - she was headed to Conover for observation and eventual return to her original hospital. Brackett would be charged with her abduction as well as all the other stuff.

Jim came to stand beside Simon. His senses had settled down remarkably, considering his separation from his Shaman. Jim sighed softly, and Simon rubbed his shoulder sympathetically. They were stuck here until someone had time to drive them to the hospital. No one was willing to take the chance that either newly rescued man had an injury that would cause an accident on the way to the hospital.

Joel jogged up to them and grinned, pulling his keys out.

"Come on, guys, we're off."

He followed Simon and Jim to his car and closed the rear door on them. Both men were slumped tiredly, leaning on the shoulder of the other as he drove carefully along the access roads until they reached pavement. Then he flipped on the lights and headed for Cascade General, their children and Blair Sandburg.

Jim actually went to sleep on Simon's shoulder - exhausted by the day's events, the battle with the overload and the final energy expended on the capture of their attackers. Joel kept an eye on them both in the rear-view mirror as he drove. Simon caught his eye and grinned a little. Jim Ellison shed a lot of years when he slept - letting you see the boy he'd been.

Joel pulled into the hospital lot and drove them up to the front entrance. Jim woke suddenly, before Simon could even nudge him and was reaching for the door handle even as Joel came to a full stop.

"Thanks Joel," Simon followed his friend out of the car, shadowing him closely as he weaved through the waiting area and triage rooms, finding the children sitting with William and surrounded by blue uniforms. Jim dropped down and hugged the children to him closely, feeling for himself that they were ok.

Simon smiled at the sight and then turned to head for the nearest nurses desk - he'd be able to get hold of a phone and call Moira to tell her he was ok. The city had an exchange for the deaf to use, and Simon had made use of it more than once from his cell phone. He wanted to be hugging his own family as soon as he knew that Blair was going to be all right.

0o0o0

Epilogue

"So what you're saying is that if Jim hadn't met you he still wouldn't have bonded to me?" Simon asked, watching the twins play out on the lawn with Tommy and Clare. Blair was lying on the couch - his brother had dropped them all off before going for a solo supply run. Both lofts were running out of edible food, and Blair was going stir crazy.

"Because your skills were latent. He needed a Guide that was already on line - and although at the time we didn't know that Guides were selected genetically too - I was on line and ready for him. There is no way that I wouldn't have been there for him - I was drawn to Cascade, to the very time and place that would let me find Jim and help him out," Blair explained, "You've come on line because we've been working with you so closely, but Simon, I think that eventually your own Sentinel will come to Cascade."

"Maybe she already has - maybe it was Bannister," Simon voiced his greatest fear softly, glancing down at the unnaturally still figure on the couch. Blair's arm was strapped across his chest, and his leg was braced and cushioned post surgery.

"If that was the case she'd have been drawn to you in the bull pen, not to me. Your scent and presence are all over the Major Crimes offices - if you were her Guide she'd have sought you out," Blair promised, his eyes serious, fixed on Simon's, "Your cougar is the spiritual leader of the spirit worlds - he shoulders the responsibilities and leads when others refuse. Your Sentinel will come to you, and they will match your vision and moral courage."

"You're sure?" Simon put his hand on Blair's and felt the last tension ease with the brilliant smile he got.

"Trust your Shaman," Blair nodded.

The Subaru pulled up in the driveway and Jim got out, heading for the front door with vigour and purpose. The two adult Guides in the house smiled as the Sentinel let himself in, shouting 'honey I'm hoooome' like Desi Arnez used to. Simon rolled his eyes and got up as the children - alerted by Clare - headed inside as well. They'd be having lunch together, and then Blair would be carefully returned to his home to rest and recuperate under Jim's watchful eye.

The present was satisfying enough to involve him now. The past was a closed door. The future could take care of itself.

The end.


End file.
